


Guilty Pleasures

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings Online, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bondage, Captivity, Coming of Age, Dirty Talk, Hair Kink, Libraries, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Piercings, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 73,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are five laws of library science.</p><p>Books are for use.<br/>Every reader his [or her] book.<br/>Every book its reader.<br/>Save the time of the reader.<br/>The library is a growing organism.</p><p>When Lord Elrond fails to understand these simple principles, his librarian must use an unconventional method to protect the collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Lalaith Raina
> 
> Challenge Cards
> 
> From the "Guilty Pleasures" card, I stole the title, and also, a bunch of the prompts (to be listed chapter by chapter).
> 
> From the "All Things Tolkien" Green Card, the prompt "I talked to this guy from Dunland once -- they're into some really weird shit over there."

Nothing would have been able to prepare Erestor for the sight he saw when he woke in the middle of the night and exited his suite. As lead librarian and scribe, his quarters were located in a very unusual place: They could be reached via a little-traveled corridor, or through a door in the library itself, semi-hidden in the third room, accessible via a narrow two-story staircase that hugged the wall. It was down this narrow stairway that he carefully walked now, lit candle held out to light his way. The faint glow passed across the floor, and Erestor paused.

“Hello? Someone there?” He listened carefully, picking up the faint noise of movement in the main chamber at the center of the library. Slowly he moved his arm, the glow falling upon a trail of books. They were pulled from the shelves, dropped where the reader stood, as if someone was on a frantic search for knowledge and could waste no time to place anything back. The trail lead into the main room, and Erestor discretely pulled a ceremonial dagger off a display on the wall as he passed and made his way forward.

He had to step over a pile of books in the doorway, and staggered a little upon seeing the state of the next room. Almost one-third of his—the collection—was on the floor, in piles that had no rhyme or reason. Some of the tomes were open on tables, stacked three or four to mark open books with another open book. Erestor scanned the dark room to find the culprit.

Sitting on the floor amid a pile of books was a wide-eyed blond-haired elf, hunched over an open tome, scanning the pages and reading to himself in a hushed yet desperate voice.

Though he had only met the newcomer to the valley hours earlier at a private dinner in Lord Elrond’s quarters, Erestor knew who he was looking at. “Lord Glorfindel?”

Still reading, the elf did not acknowledge him. He continued to flip through the pages, switching between the index and the text rapidly. Erestor took another look around the usually pristine space, frowning at the work he would have in the morning. Biting his lip, he turned back to Glorfindel and crouched down, settling his hand onto the page that was open, fingers splayed out to block the text. “Lord Glorfindel, is there something I can help you find?”

Crystalline eyes snapped upwards to meet Erestor’s gaze, and stunned the librarian speechless as he momentarily caught a glimpse of something so brilliant that he faltered and looked down as Glorfindel said, “They are all dead.”

“My Lord, I do not know of whom you speak.”

“All of them. They are all dead. One attack after another, and even Earendil is lost to the heavens. Everyone is... gone.” His voice cracked, the book slipped down into his lap. Before it became another casualty, Erestor slid the book away and closed it, using his free hand to place it back on the half-empty shelf.

“Shall I show you back to your room?” asked Erestor, already considering in the back of his mind putting a lock on the main door of the library.

Glorfindel hugged his arms around himself slowly. He was shivering, and Erestor tried to decide during the long pause whether or not he should retrieve a blanket from his room or if he should step into the hallway and find a page who could bring a healer. “I do not want to be alone,” Glorfindel finally replied in a soft voice, so very different than it should be, thought Erestor.

“Uh…” Erestor considered his options, from waking Lord Elrond to seeing if anyone was still up in the Hall of Fire. Finally, he settled upon, “Would you like to sit in my quarters for a while?”

And that was how Erestor the librarian woke the next morning in bed with Lord Glorfindel.


	2. Authority

“What a mess.”

“I cannot believe this was caused by one Elf.”

Erestor looked between the junior librarians as they surveyed the clutter from the night before. “I know it seems unlikely, but Lord Glorfindel was very distraught when I found him.” Erestor picked up several volumes that were resting on the pedestal of a statue and handed them to Mirwen. “How he found his way into the library after hours is beyond me.” Another pile of books was removed from a bench and deposited into Atharovor’s arms. “I understand that this is going to be a time-consuming task, but I must ask you to do your best to finish it before lunch. I would prefer that Elrond not be told – he has enough to worry about. I would also like to keep exactly what happened between the three of us. Lord Glorfindel will have quite enough to adjust to already.”

The scholars both nodded and left Erestor beside the stairway while they enlisted the pages. Erestor surveyed the strewn books and scrolls one final time before he climbed back up to his quarters. He waited a moment before he let himself in, and found that Lord Glorfindel was still asleep. This gave him enough time to leave through the other door that led into the corridor and fetch a maid.

Several minutes later, the maid returned with a tea trolley. Erestor thanked the maid, and then hurriedly took the trolley into his quarters himself with a promise to leave it in the hallway when he was done. By now, Glorfindel was stirring, and Erestor brought the trolley beside the bed. “Your lordship, if you are content to stay in bed, I can pour the tea for you if you like. There is fruit as well, some biscuits, and jam.”

It took a moment for things to register, but Glorfindel sat up and shook his head. “Thank you, I can eat at the table. You did not need to go through such trouble,” he added apologetically as he rubbed his eyes and then stood up to stretch. 

“No trouble,” said Erestor as he set out the tea and food on the surface that doubled as a desk and table. He brought another chair over and waited for Glorfindel to settle in before he sat down. “I hope you slept well last night.”

“I slept, and that is something,” Glorfindel admitted. “I am sorry for ruining order in your domain.”

Erestor smiled as he poured the tea. “It is nothing which cannot be fixed. Why do you think we number all of them?” He set the cup before Glorfindel and then offered cream and honey, both of which were declined. Erestor stirred a dollop of honey into his own tea while he waited for Glorfindel to select something from the food on the table. 

When Glorfindel realized he was holding things up, he shook his head. “Nothing for me, thank you. I do not have much of an appetite this morning. Again, I am sorry you went through such trouble.”

Erestor smirked. “It was very little trouble at all. The maid did most of the work.” He contemplated an apple, but set it down again when someone knocked upon the door. “Excuse me a moment.”

It was Atharovor, and he was holding a small, red leather-bound book in his hands. “I am sorry to disrupt, sir, but Mirwen found this in one of the piles. She was... concerned about the content, and... well, I was, too,” he admitted as Erestor furrowed his brow and took the book.

The librarian paged through it, skimmed a passage, and handed it back. “Some people like to read this sort of thing,” he said in explanation.

“Why? It seems like a waste,” opined Atharovor.

“Every book has its reader, and every reader, his book.” Erestor folded his hands together. “Or her book. Just because you would not read it and Mirwen would not read it does not mean someone will not read it.”

“So I should put it back?”

“Yes,” declared Erestor in exasperation. “Was that all?”

“For now, sir,” said Atharovor as he backed away from the door with a bow.

Erestor returned to the table to find Glorfindel standing up. “Thank you for your hospitality, Master Erestor,” said Glorfindel. “I fear I am outstaying my welcome.”

“You are very welcome here,” replied Erestor, but he was sure that while the entire ordeal had been uncomfortable and awkward for him, for Glorfindel, it was even more so. “Should you have need for late night research, feel free to contact me, and I shall oblige.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I shall attempt to fulfill my research needs during the normal operating hours of the library,” he concluded before he left, choosing to leave through the door which led to the corridor instead of the one that led into the library.

\+ * + * +

Nothing more was said of the library incident for several weeks. Not until an afternoon council meeting in late autumn, which began with Elrond in a rather sour mood. “Shall we postpone the meeting, Lord Elrond?” inquired Erestor when he realized that every suggestion was met with a negative response. “An adjournment until this evening, perhaps?”

For the first time since the meeting was called to order, Elrond nodded. “Take three hours break; we shall meet here after supper.” Several of the other councilors sighed in relief as they made their way down the stone stairs. “Something seems to trouble you, m’lord. Is there aught I might do to ease your mind?” asked Erestor.

“There may in fact be, Master Erestor. Walk with me.” Elrond stood, and Erestor followed silently beside him as they descended the stairs and entered the house. Elrond’s rooms and his study were in the same wing, and it was not difficult to tell that Elrond was leading his chief advisor to one of these places. “Late last night, I had a disagreement with my daughter,” he confided when they stood outside of the study. Erestor tilted his head, but said nothing. “One of the maids claims she was tidying the suite and found a book hidden under Arwen’s knitting. Celebrian returned early and caught the maid sitting on the balcony, reading this filth. When I confronted Arwen, she did not deny that she was the one to obtain the waste of paper, but also, that it came from your library.”

Erestor licked his lips and tried to formulate a reply, but thought better of it when the door of the study was opened and he was bid to follow Elrond inside.

“Here it is.” Elrond picked the book up with one finger and his thumb, a look of utter disgust on his face. “I trust you know what to do with it.”

Erestor took possession of the small, red book. “Certainly. Is there anything else?”

“Are there other books of this sort in the library?”

“Nothing quite like this one,” answered Erestor.

Elrond shook his head. “Then you are dismissed.”

Erestor bowed as he held the book in both hands, and then took a step back and into the hallway. He walked a few feet away before he looked down at the volume and sighed. “What a troublemaker you are,” he scolded the book, and unbeknownst to him, he was heard, and consequently followed. “Now I shall need to shift everything in your range again, and before dinner at that, so you are once more safely on the top shelf...”


	3. Humiliation

One of Erestor’s greatest mid-afternoon pleasures consisted of a cup of tea, heavy on the honey, three thin chocolate biscuits, and a spot on the floor in the back of the reading room. There was a statue of Feanor shoved to the side, right between ethics and psychology. It was not very wide, and not very tall, but it was very tarnished and forgotten. The previous librarian had informed him that it had come from Lindon at the end of the Second Age. 

In the outstretched arms of the statue was an open book. One side displayed a page written in Sarati, and the other, the exact text written in Tengwar. Erestor had the words memorized; the five part creed of the librarian. When he was a junior librarian, Erestor used to touch the top of the statue’s head for good luck or something. Now, he kept it dusted and bowed his head to it reverently when no one was looking, and took his tea on the floor beside it in the afternoons when he was able to be undisturbed.

“Master Erestor?”

Erestor looked up. His back was against the marble base of the bronze statue, left shoulder to the wall. It was the left hand that held the saucer and teacup; his right was poised near his mouth, holding a biscuit, which he delicately removed, unconsumed, and placed it upon the saucer. “Master Lindir?”

The seneschal bowed his head. “Master Erestor, I am bid by Lord Elrond to escort you to his study.”

In one fluid motion, Erestor rose without so much as rippling the tea. “Very well.” With his voice no louder than a whisper, Erestor beckoned a page from across the room and passed his discarded afternoon snack with the boy before he brushed imaginary crumbs from his hands. He then folded his hands together as he began to walk beside Lindir, the long sleeves concealing them. Very little of Erestor was visible in fact, for his robes were tailored to reach the ground and he customarily wore a coif of dark fabric, and at times a cloak with hood up. He had no cloak today, but was otherwise very conservatively dressed, all in browns and black. He said not another word to Lindir, and bowed promptly upon reaching the study. “My Lord.”

Erestor’s lips parted slightly and his breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the item Elrond held. He swallowed once and lifted his head in an attempt to appear calm. “Master Lindir asked me to see you,” he stated when he realized that the door had been closed behind him, and Lindir had not entered.

Elrond set the book down and turned it so that Erestor could read the title in little gold letters on the red leather spine. “This afternoon, I decided to skip my usual appointment with Glorielhen, as it has been a light week. The weather was pleasant, and I asked the butler to have my tea brought to me on the balcony.”

“A fine decision, m’lord. Autumn breezes shall soon give way to winter winds, and tea on your balcony would be ill-advised at that time,” replied Erestor in a most professional voice.

“You can then imagine my disdain to hear giggles most unseemly upon my return to my suite. When I made my way to the balcony, I found it already occupied. My daughter and the maid were there, and the maid once more had this in her possession.” Elrond tapped two fingers on the book. “I believe you assured me that you knew how to handle the situation.”

“Indeed. When last I saw the book, it was on the highest shelf, third tier up, only accessible by ladder. I wished to be certain only someone intending to check out the book had access,” Erestor explained.

“Erestor. That does not solve the problem.”

Erestor pursed his lips together. Eighteen separate possibilities on how to handle the situation flashed through his mind, and he calculated Elrond’s likelihood to agree to each of them, and the success of each, all before Elrond could blink. “Perhaps, then, it is time to find a new maid.”

“The solution is simple. Get rid of it!” Elrond picked up the book and held it out.

Instantly, Erestor looked visibly ill. “Destroy it?” he queried. Elrond nodded. He even motioned to the blazing fire in the room. “Sir... your lordship... I must refuse.”

Elrond lowered his hand slowly. “Do you even know what is written in this?”

“In all honesty, m’lord, I have not the time to read every volume housed within the library. However, I have seen this particular book and perused the contents often enough over the last few months. While I understand the nature of the material is something which makes some people uncomfortable, there are others who would find the topic interesting. In some cases, it even has academic merit.”

“Academic merit.” Elrond held Erestor’s gaze for several moments, and when it was evident that this technique would not move Erestor to change his mind, Elrond steepled his fingers and looked down at the desk. “Erestor, your work to this point has been exemplary.”

“Thank you, m’lord. I have always aimed to fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities,” answered Erestor, voice emotionless.

“Erestor, it is one book. Remove it from the collection and we shall never speak of this again,” promised Elrond. “At the very least, lock it up somewhere. Keep it hidden.”

“Books are to be used,” argued Erestor gently. “They are meant to be read, not to be locked away, to leave people ignorant. Libraries should make resources accessible – they are meant to save the user time. If I begin locking things up, it defeats both purposes.” Erestor could tell he was on thin ice, knew he was jeopardizing his career, his position, even his honor, and yet, he continued talking. “Lord Elrond, you have said that the book is disturbing. Have you read it?”

“I have read enough,” answered Elrond curtly.

“Precisely what did you find in ill taste?” 

“The whole damned thing!” Elrond picked the book up again and this time stood. “It is full of nonsense! The acts performed within are devious and dangerous. No one in Imladris should have access to this sort of thing.” He shook the volume at Erestor as he approached him. “You have one final chance, Erestor.” He pushed the book at the still hidden hands, and Erestor’s fingers emerged to grasp the volume. Elrond moved to the fireplace, and removed the grate. 

Erestor watched the crackling flames licking the two pine logs for several minutes, hands gripping tighter to the book. Eventually, he bit his lip and shook his head, and Elrond, jaw set, walked a short distance, picked up a short, fat stick wrapped in leather, and twice struck a gong hanging near the wall. 

The sound should have caused Erestor to flinch, but he stood still, even as he heard the frantic race of feet in the corridor to reach the Lord of the Valley. The door was thrown open, and Lord Glorfindel entered the room first, with two guards on his heels. “M’lord.” Glorfindel stopped and bowed, as did the guards.

“Glorfindel. Master Erestor is to be taken into custody. I believe you are familiar by now with the layout of the house?” questioned Lord Elrond.

Slowly, Lord Glorfindel nodded, his gaze shifting to the unmoving scholar.

“Good. I want him locked in the Dungeon of the Deepening.”

Lord Glorfindel looked back to Elrond. “The one without windows.”

“Yes, that one.”

“For how long, sir?”

“Until further notice.”

Again, Glorfindel bowed, though it was hesitant this time. He motioned for one of the guards to approach. “Master Erestor,” he said, and it was evident to Erestor that he did not wish to address him in such a way, “you have been judged guilty of...” Glorfindel trailed off and looked to Elrond.

“Heresy,” answered Elrond firmly.

Glorfindel looked over Erestor. Erestor did not shy away his gaze, and felt as if the look he was given was one of apology. “You have been judged guilty of heresy,” stated Glorfindel. “For this you shall be locked in the Dungeon of the Deepening until such time as Lord Elrond sees fit to release you, may Eru have mercy on your soul.” Glorfindel took a deep breath as the nearest guard handed him a pair of manacles. 

“Better than apostasy,” replied Erestor, and he even shook back the heavy fabric to reveal his wrists and make the task easier for Glorfindel.

The Captain took hold of one arm, placed Erestor’s wrist against the cold steel, and snapped it shut. He reached for the book held in Erestor’s other hand, unsure of what to do with it once he had it, and turned when Elrond cleared his throat.

“Let him keep that while he considers why he is down there.”

Glorfindel gave a nod, and then began to hand the book back. He paused, and looked up into Erestor’s eyes once more.

The last few minutes had felt surreal to Erestor. He almost expected Lindir to leap into the room at any moment and proclaim that it was all a joke, for Elrond to crack a smile, for Arwen to skip into the study and grab the book away and traipse merrily down the hall with it. What he did not expect was the sorrowful look on Glorfindel’s face and the little shake of the captain’s head.

Elrond cleared his throat again. “Is something the matter, Captain?”

Glorfindel looked down at the book, the half-empty manacles, and then to the lord of the house. “Am I to understand that the reason Master Erestor is to be imprisoned has something to do with the contents of that book?”

“It has everything to do with that book,” answered Elrond.

“Then I am sorry, m’lord. I cannot do as you ask, for, I fear I am as guilty as he is.”

Lord Elrond slowly moved across the room to stand before Glorfindel. “Explain yourself, Captain.”

Glorfindel swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. “I must admit, I found the book the first night I was here. When I next sought it out, it was missing from the library. Then, some time later, I observed Master Erestor taking it from this very room back to the library. I have been to the library several times since to read it, until once more it was missing.”

“And you enjoyed reading that filth?” asked Elrond.

“You need not answer that,” spoke up Erestor. He expected, and received, a glare from Elrond, but it seemed while it may have been too late to save himself, he might still do what he could to keep Elrond’s wrath from targeting Lord Glorfindel as well. When Glorfindel looked upon him, Erestor added, “It is considered not only bad etiquette to inquire in such a manner as to the reading habits of others, but it should also be business of no one but yourself what you read and what you enjoy reading.”

Glorfindel still held the empty cuff of the manacles in one hand, and he now reached out with the other and grasped Erestor’s hand. He did not move to finish the task, however, he simply squeezed Erestor’s free hand. Erestor squeezed back, as if he knew that Glorfindel meant to answer, and needed the support of someone in the room before he did. “I shall answer,” he said as he looked to Elrond. “Yes, I found the book enjoyable, and until this moment, I felt no shame in that.”

Elrond was very quiet, and for a moment, Erestor wondered if he was rethinking the whole thing. This was proven wrong when Elrond motioned to the pair of guards at the door. “Take them both to the dungeon,” directed Elrond. “If I hear of any guards providing preferential treatment, they shall join these two in the cell.”

The guards stepped forward, wordlessly fastening manacles to Glorfindel’s wrists and finishing the job with the ones that were only partially on Erestor. Their ankles were next, and while this caused no difficulty for Erestor, who wore soft shoes within the house, Glorfindel was made to take his boots off – a trying ordeal with his wrists restrained as they were. 

While Erestor found it wholly unnecessary for the guards to follow protocols by the book, they did so. This meant that now with multiple prisoners, a chain was produced. One end was attached to the manacles binding Glorfindel’s hands. It dragged down, passed through a loop between those on his ankles, and traveled up again through the ones attached to Erestor’s wrists, where the process began again, leaving a length of chain for one of the guards to hold onto at the rear. In fact, both guards stood behind as they directed Glorfindel and Erestor to shuffle along.

There was no way to hide in the halls; the drag of the chains on the ground alerted those in their rooms to look out at what caused the noise, and those in the passages to step aside and gawk. While Erestor could see that Glorfindel kept his head down and refused to look at anyone, the librarian assumed an air of casual defiance. His chin was up, he offered a polite ‘good day’ to anyone bold enough to look him in the eyes, and even gave a few last minute instructions to Mirwen and Atharovor when they ventured out of the library and down the corridor to see if the fast-spreading rumors were true. All the while, Erestor held the book, unconcealed, the title displayed to those who looked.

They had gathered a little procession behind them, and Erestor looked around a few times to notice that it continued to grow until they reached the locked doors which would take them to the underground levels. The first flight down was still well-lit, for it was used often enough. Crime was unusual in Imladris, but it happened. For this reason, there were eight cells on this level, and nice enough, Erestor had always thought. Compared to what he had seen when he had toured Greenwood, they were almost cozy. What was more, each had a little light that streamed in from windows near the top of the cells.

The same could not be said of the next level. This was the Dungeon of the Deepening, and Erestor had only ever peered down the stairway once to be sure it actually existed. One of the guards brought candles to light the way, and another carried some rough bedding with him. Erestor caught part of an exchange, something about it never being used before. The Dungeon of the Deepening always seemed more of a threat than a promise, and Erestor noticed that the clinking of the chains was due in part to the tremble of his own hands, and so he clutched the book tighter.

At the bottom of the stairs was a single barred door, and beyond that, a cell. It was the only cell, hewn into the rock. It was damp, Erestor could feel it even if he could not quite see it in the darkness, but not unclean. Their restraints were removed, piled in a corner for lack of light, and each of them was given a blanket, an old flour sack filled with rags to serve as a pillow, and two small cloths ‘for necessity’. Erestor heard a clang, looked for the noise, and saw that a chamber pot was being placed near the door. Another guard descended the stairway with two buckets of clean water, and a basket with a loaf of bread and a half dozen apples. There was no table, and so the basket was set upon the floor before the door was locked.

The guards were soon gone, and with them the light, save for a strange sort of glow which only now Erestor noticed. Glorfindel, for all the sadness he now radiated, gave off some sort of luminescence, too. Neither spoke for some time, but after a while, Glorfindel said, “Please, do not be angry with me. I did not want you to be alone.”

Erestor looked up. He had busied himself with counting and recounting the six apples over and over again. “Why would that anger me?”

“Not that. The fact that I continued to break into the library after hours to read,” answered Glorfindel guiltily.

“Technically, I never said you could not,” reasoned Erestor. “Besides, there is a good chance I would be all alone here right now if you had not done so. I believe I should thank you for your late night meanderings.”

“That may explain why I am here,” said Glorfindel. “That still leaves me at a loss for why you are here.”

And so, with nothing more pressing to be done in a cell in the deepest dungeon in Imladris, Erestor retold the entire story from beginning to end. Glorfindel listened intently, and it seemed to Erestor that now and then when his emotions intensified, so, too, did the faint glow about him become brighter. When the tale brought them back to the cell they were in once more, Glorfindel nodded in understanding. “I believe there is a very logical, though unconventional, way to clear your name.”

Erestor had told most of the story while lying on the floor in an attempt to acclimate himself to the rigid stone he would undoubtedly be sleeping on for some time. Now, he sat up and focused on the illuminated elf before him. “You have my full attention, Lord Glorfindel.”

“I think, from now on, we can assume a first name relationship, Erestor,” said Glorfindel. It was not commanding, as one might think, but rather, it was almost a plea, a need for companionship and not the distancing that titles created.

With a faint yet warm smile, Erestor bobbed his head a few times. “In which case, you still have my full attention, Glorfindel.”


	4. Captivity

“I think I need a little clarification on your idea.”

“Ask me anything.” There was a pause. “I seem to have all the time in Arda at the moment.”

“Are you suggesting a reenactment of the entire work?”

“Yes and no.” Glorfindel had his arms hugged around his knees. He had not moved much since they arrived, whenever that was. In fact, Erestor could not quite tell if it had been an hour or three or if it might already have been the next day. Without windows, time was not accessible to them. It was the first unnerving through that he had, and he realized that Glorfindel must have noticed, for he reached forward and touched Erestor’s arm. “Are you alright?”

“I was.” Erestor focused his gaze above and examined the strange coloration of the rock that was moving overhead. A moment later, he was scrambling to sit up, keeping watch on the centipede clinging to the ceiling of the cell. “A little less again now,” he admitted.

Glorfindel looked up as well. “They bite sometimes, but none of them are poisonous,” he assured his cellmate. 

“Oh, good. Good. Yes, my concern was exactly that,” lied Erestor, his gaze still on the creature overhead. He was still watching it when Glorfindel stood up and retrieved the multi-legged inhabitant and relocated it to a dark corner. This made Erestor let out a very faint and brief whimper.

“You never go camping, do you?” Even in the darkness, Erestor could see the smile on Glorfindel’s face through the other’s luminescence. 

Erestor fussed to tuck his hair neatly beneath the coif again. “Why would I need to?”

Glorfindel rejoined him, but this time, he sat down beside Erestor. “Because it can be fun. You can sleep out under the stars, tell stories around a campfire, fish or swim or canoe.” Glorfindel laughed as each suggestion caused Erestor to scrunch his nose a little more. “Alright. What do you do for fun?”

“I read,” replied Erestor plainly.

When nothing more was offered, Glorfindel inquired further. “All you do is read?”

“I listen to problems people have and I offer advice.”

“I know what you do. I understand your position. Librarian, scholar, politician, counselor. What do you do after hours?” prodded Glorfindel.

“I read things I do not have time to read when I am working, and I offer advice in a non-professional capacity.” Erestor spoke slower this time and studied Glorfindel’s face. “For example, if a minstrel is unsure which song to perform during supper, I will give my opinion, and I have no time to read biographies when I am working, and those are my favorite of all of the books, as I find fact more fascinating than fiction.”

Glorfindel drew his legs up to hug them again. “What about when you are with your family or friends?”

“My parents sailed years ago. I have no other relations on this side of the sea.” Erestor glanced over when Glorfindel seemed to lose interest in the conversation, but he simply realized that Glorfindel was awaiting an answer to the other part of the question. “I find that in order to remain unbiased in my suggestions and opinions, it is best not to attach to anyone in particular.”

Glorfindel cleared his throat. “I guess sleeping in trees is out of the question.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you do not go camping, I doubt you take naps in trees.”

“I sleep in a tree when I visit Lothlorien.” Erestor smiled slowly. “You have no idea what I mean by that.”

“Ah... well, I know what a tree is,” answered Glorfindel. He reached down to rub his bare feet, his boots still likely discarded in Elrond’s study.

“I think you would like Lothlorien.” Erestor sighed. “Maybe you should have gone there instead.”

Glorfindel shook his head slowly. “I think I am right where I need to be.”

\+ * + * +

There was nothing settling about settling in for the night. The ground was smooth, but that did not change the fact it was rock, and damp and cold. Erestor twisted from one side, and then to the other. He tried spreading the blanket beneath him out more, and then tried to scrunch it up. He adjusted everything multiple times, and when he heard Glorfindel try the same beside him, he knew that his cellmate was awake, and hoped conversation would not be entirely unwelcome. He fought to think of a topic unrelated to reading or books or anything else that would remind him that he had no friends, only acquaintances- acquaintances who were less than likely to worry about him and try to visit or do anything to change his situation. It was weak at best as a conversation starter, but Erestor tried the next thing that came to mind. “This is the first time I have ever been in trouble.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Erestor opened his mouth to dispute this, but thoughts swam through his head that he would need to reveal information about himself, and he shut it again. He heard the rustling near him again, and turned his head and saw that Glorfindel was propped up on an elbow. The glow was brighter. 

“Actually…” Glorfindel studied Erestor briefly before he lowered himself sleepily down again. “Maybe I can believe that.”

Once again, Erestor was left to stretch his legs, curl them up, beat the makeshift pillow, tug at his collar when his clothing tightened up around him. 

“I used to get in trouble all the time.”

Erestor was on his stomach when this revelation was revealed, and he used both elbows to prop himself up. “All the time? I find that hard to believe.”

“You would be surprised,” replied Glorfindel. “I did some very unconventional things in my youth.”

“Like the snow slide in Tirion?” wondered Erestor before he had a chance to censor himself. Whether the sleep deprivation, the shock over the events of the day, or the comfort Erestor suddenly felt from speaking to someone without the requirement of a title for what he realized was likely the first time in his adult life, it slipped out. He tried to think of something else to lead the conversation somewhere else. “We should probably get a good night’s sleep.” Ah, yes. Perfect. Obviously, that would not lead to further questioning.

“How did you know about that?”

“Do you think that centipede is likely to attack in the night?”

“Do you have biographies about me in the library?”

“Are you certain they are not venomous?”

“Have you read them?”

Erestor lowered himself back down again and answered with a muffled, “Yes,” that was mostly absorbed into the pillow. He waited what seemed to be several minutes before he heard anything more.

“We should get some sleep.”

Erestor tried to analyze the reply. It seemed amused, and perhaps there was some amount of curiosity. 

“We can talk about my idea in the morning,” Glorfindel paused. “I promise to help you however I am able in getting out of here.” Glorfindel hesitated even longer. “If you would allow it, I would like to be your friend. Like you, though for different reasons, I have no one I am close to in Imladris. I think it might be nice to have someone to... well, to talk to without it seeming like work.”

Erestor let out a yawn, and then asked, “Do I need to go camping with you?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Then I accept,” he said sleepily. Despite the uncomfortable accommodations, and the constant hazy glow emanating from Glorfindel, Erestor dozed off as the centipede scurried over to inspect one of the temporarily discarded shoes nearby.

Glorfindel waited until Erestor was asleep before he moved his bedding closer and stretched out for the night.


	5. Revealing Secrets

“I am about to ask you a very impolite question. If you like, you may ignore it. It will not offend me at all,” assured Erestor.

It was probably afternoon. Breakfast was apples. Lunch was apples. The bread was hard; Glorfindel joked that it might have been a decorative centerpiece instead of food. In between, there were very few words exchanged. Erestor fussed over his inability to do more than wash his face and hands with what was in the cell, and brooded until the afternoon despite Glorfindel’s initial attempts to engage in conversation. Glorfindel settled against one of the walls and, from what Erestor could tell, was reading the rest of the book from where he left off.

Erestor could spend hours listening to someone explain their situation to him in order to get the most accurate advice, or listen to someone tell him everything they already knew about a topic in order for him to assist them in finding all the bits and pieces they had yet to learn. For the first time in his professional career, he had no one to help, for it seemed evident that Glorfindel would be fine on his own (had he not been the one to deal with the potentially deadly giant centipede?), and it left Erestor to sit quietly, stare at the wall, the floor, his hands. Sometimes he found his hand had wandered near his neck to fidget with a pendant he wore, or the silver chain it hung from, which was really two interlinked chains. He would only realize this when he caught movement, and each time, it was Glorfindel, looking up from the little red book with a faint smile, and Erestor would quickly fold his hands once again, and answer questions in one-word sentences or shrugs until Glorfindel was again engrossed in the book.

Glorfindel looked up now not because of the nervous movements on Erestor’s part, but because of the words he spoke. “I already told you that you could ask me anything.”

“Yes, I remember that. I still felt it best to give warning.” Erestor noticed Glorfindel’s smile, and let go of his pendant again. “Why do you glow?”

“…glow?” Glorfindel looked confused.

“Ah…” Erestor almost reached for the chain to fuss with it again, but stilled his own hand. “Nevermind,” he amended.

Glorfindel smiled. “I know what you mean.” He closed the book and set it aside. “You just… nevermind,” he corrected himself. “Do you want the real story, or the one I tell people to impress them?”

“Well the real – nevermind what?”

“You neverminded me first,” reminded Glorfindel.

“Yes, but you took that back- and anyhow, you were teasing me but pretending to not know something which is… well, very visible and unable to be hidden,” scolded Erestor. When he realized he was scolding, he folded his hands again. “Oh, nevermind,” he muttered.

Glorfindel’s smile widened and he scooted over to sit beside Erestor. He could have stood up. It would have been tight, but there would have been enough room. The cell was not very wide, and so it seemed to Erestor somewhat logical that standing was illogical. “Have I upset you?”

Erestor sighed. “I feel like you… nevermind.” He turned away. And saw the damned centipede lurking on the wall, inches from his face. With a twitch and a noise of discontent, Erestor moved a little further from the wall and faced Glorfindel again.

“What I do mind is that you keep cutting yourself off,” admitted Glorfindel. “Is whatever you were going to say so bad you cannot tell your friend?”

“Sorry, I am still adjusting to this,” said Erestor as he moved a hand between them, “and to this,” he emphasized as he waved about at the walls of the cave-like cell. “A day ago, I was perfectly happy being friends with the cats who keep the mice out of the library and Feanor.”

“Feanor?” Glofindel peered at Erestor intently, and the librarian could only guess at why he was under scrutiny. “You knew Feanor?”

“Not the real Feanor, no. Just the… we keep a statue in the library,” explained Erestor. His fingers twisted at the silver chains. Glorfindel smiled, and Erestor hid his hands in the expansive sleeves again. “I feel like you are laughing at me.”

“No,” contested Glorfindel. “Well… not really. Not in a bad way.”

“You must not have been laughed at as a child,” replied Erestor.

“Uhm… no, not much,” answered Glorfindel, his expression solemn now. “I am sorry. Let me explain.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, let me answer your question first.”

“What question?”

“About the glowing.”

“I honestly forgot I even asked.”

“I tell people that I glow because of the amazing things I did during the last day and a half of my life, and people seem to love that idea.” Glorfindel stretched and a cracking sound came from his back, and then from his neck. “It is actually a reminder. I have been given such an unprecedented gift, to be allowed not only to live again, but to walk on these shores once more. That does not come without a price. I did some horrible things the first time around, and Lord Manwe made it abundantly clear that I am still atoning for those things. As such, this haze, this glow as you call it, as others have seen it to be, it is my guilt, my wrongdoings, the aura of which is so strong that I cannot hide it from anyone, not myself, not you, no one.”

“It is actually very pretty,” Erestor complimented.

“You are very pretty.”

Erestor meant to say ‘excuse me?’ to that, but he was so shocked that all of the words he knew in every language he spoke refused to be spoken. He looked down, at the floor, at his hands, to the wall, damned centipede had moved which meant he could be –anywhere-, to the damp blanket they were sitting on, and finally, up, up at the other Elf. The Elf he was locked in a cell with. A number of retorts were beginning to seep into his mind, from ‘Does the glowing affect your eyesight, then?’ to ‘No.’ 

Glorfindel was the fidgeting one now. He chewed at his lip, pulled at the frayed edge of the blanket, and finally stood up, retrieved the centipede (now creeping overhead above Erestor), and carried the creature back across the room before he kneeled down to let the centipede go. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Erestor traced the thin chains and twisted the pendant several times, one way, and then the other. His thumb worried it, smooth yet etched on one side, and multifaceted on the other. There were many ways to handle this. Thirty-seven possibilities seemed juvenile, and at least three were far too familiar at this point. Another nine would only cause an unwanted and unwarranted rift, and another dozen might lead to further awkwardness. Erestor sorted through the remaining five that came to mind and with his fingers still fretting with the pendant, he asked, “How did you know?”

“I had a feeling the first day I met you,” admitted Glorfindel, his voice a little more relaxed than it had been when he apologized. “You have to be at least a few hundred years old, unmarried, and yet you seem abhorrently practical, and I mean that in the kindest way possible. You live alone, you shooed away the maid when she brought the trolley the morning I slept over, and…”

“And? Please, enlighten me, I am constructing a list of things not to do when we get out of here. I thought I had been doing so well,” Erestor added with a sigh.

“You held my hand.” Glorfindel, from what Erestor could tell, sounded like someone who was lovesick and blurting out all of their confessions. And that, realized Erestor, was exactly what was happening. “When Elrond called upon me to take you away, and I took hold of your hand, you did not flinch, nor pull away, and when I gripped it, you squeezed it back.”

Erestor fingered the pendant again, uncertain of how to answer. “I just think you should know, it could have been about anyone, and I think I may have still squeezed their hand back.”

“I am sure of that,” answered Glorfindel. “When I was reborn, in Valinor, I found myself in a place where I did not belong. This opportunity which I have to be here was something that I thought would bring me to a place where I could feel I was meant to be. When I arrived, I found that was not the case. Until I met you. You are everything I remember about how the world used to be. With you, I feel like I belong.”

“Alright.” Erestor was clutching at the pendant now, kneeding it in his hand. “And, I think you are very kind.” He lifted his other hand and rubbed his face. “I am certain you wish for more than that, but—“

“No. No, I would not want it to be forced,” said Glorfindel. “I only tell you because I want you to be honest with me, and I think for that, I need to be honest with you, especially if you still think my idea has merit.”

“Right. The book.” Erestor pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he possibly forget the book? “Well, thank you. I appreciate your honesty.” Erestor opened his eyes to see what seemed like a look of longing from Glorfindel, but the gaze was quickly broken as the sound of the door being unlocked could be heard at the top of the stairway.

Moments later, torchlight carefully grew closer. There were two figures, the shadows moving closer, until their owners were revealed. Elrond’s youngest children, Arwen and Elrohir, both looked into the cell with remorse. “Oh, Master Erestor! I am so very sorry!” Arwen did indeed look it, and in her hands she was clutching a basket. “I feel so very responsible!”

Erestor stood and approached the bars for the first time. He had been content to pretend he was some refugee or perhaps embarking on camping for some unknown reason up until now. Now, with a cold, steel bar clutched in either hand, he truly felt like a prisoner. A convict. A criminal. “It was not your fault.”

“Actually, it was my fault,” admitted Elrohir. “I retrieved it for her.” He held a torch in one hand, and under his other arm were two large fur throws, no doubt smuggled from the Hall of Fire. “When we found out that father forbid everyone from aiding either of you, we knew we had to come see you. There are four people in this valley that father will not dare lock away, so we might as well use that advantage.”

Arwen set the basket down and took the throws from her brother. “We could only bring a few things now, but each time we come there will be more,” she promised. She and Erestor managed to get the first throw through the bars, and Glorfindel approached to help with the second. 

“I am going to go up and guard the doorway,” explained Elrohir once that task was complete. “Do not linger for too long,” he warned his sister before he gave a nod to the Elves in the cell and walked halfway up the passage to keep watch.

There was food, and even a bottle of wine, though in her haste, Arwen forgot the corkscrew. She brought a few books, and some paper, ink, and quills. “I thought you might want to write a list for me of things you want brought here,” she explained. There was also a small pouch of sugared almonds, some candles, flint, and a stone to light them with. “I will try to be back tomorrow, but it will all depend upon how often Elladan can distract father.”

“He is in on this, too?” asked Erestor.

“Mother is as well,” came Elrohir’s voice from the stairway. “She is trying in her own way to gain reprieve for you both, but father has been as stubborn as ever. Arwen, we should go, or this will be the only trip we get to make.”

Arwen reached through the bars to give each of them a hug in turn. “I am sorry,” she said again, but Erestor shooed her off and said he would have none of it going forward.

Then they were in the darkness once again, save for Glorfindel’s light. “Oh, damn,” said Erestor with a sigh after he heard the door shut at the top of the stairway. “I should have had her take the centipede with her.”

\+ * + * +

Supper was better than their earlier meals had been, though it was a much more awkward ordeal. Every time they reached for something simultaneously, there were flinches and apologies. The conversation was non-existent, and somehow they managed to sit further away by the end of the meal than they had been at the beginning.

It was as Erestor began the task of making a list for Arwen that Glorfindel interrupted his thoughts. The blond Elf was again sitting with his knees up and arms hugged around them. “I ruined whatever might have happened,” he began. “Friendship or otherwise. I am so sorry. I thought if I told you, it would make things better.”

“Look, I am a little uncomfortable right now, alright? Yes, I share your interest in… relationships which are… un-something with the ‘fairer’ of the sexes,” Erestor floundered. “However, I prefer you not look at me—no, I prefer that no one look at me—as if they desire me in some way. It is absolutely unnecessary.”

“Why?” Glorfindel rested his chin on his knees. “Do you think you are not beautiful?”

“What? No. No, I—I do a lot to not be pretty,” answered Erestor.

“Why?”

“Oh, my goodness. Why this, why that. Why is the sky blue? This is Lindir growing up all over again.” Erestor set the quill aside and folded his hands. “I do it because—“ And then, Erestor had to stop. Here was a question he had no good answer for. He could even consult a thousand books, and not a single volume would give him insight (perhaps something in abnormal psychology, he thought). Why could he not accept the compliment? Why did he have to argue it?

“Handsome,” blurted out Glorfindel in the midst of Erestor’s thoughts. “I meant handsome. Oh, I used the wrong words again,” he chastised himself with a groan. He covered his face with a hand. “I have tried so hard to remember everything; I meant to say you are handsome. You said pretty before about the aura, and I… I messed up.” Glorfindel sighed as his hand was lowered from his face. “Not that it changes things. I am deeply sorry. I did not mean to wrong you in any way, or seem too forward, or anything like that. I hope you might forgive me eventually.” 

Glorfindel took himself back to that far corner and sat down with his back to Erestor, perhaps to punish himself, or to allow privacy, or something else. Erestor waited and collected his thoughts before he pushed himself up (check the ceiling, check the wall, check all appendages, no centipede, watch the floor carefully while walking, hope it ran away) and slowly approached Glorfindel and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Come on.”

When Glorfindel did not move, Erestor stooped down. “Just because I am a highly traditional, inwardly conflicted, unromantic pessimist does not mean you should stop being such a charming dreamer.” When Glorfindel still did not move, he added, “If we are going to attempt even half of what is in that book, I would much rather it be with someone who thinks me handsome – or pretty or beautiful – than not.” When he saw the twinkle of hope in Glorfindel’s eyes, he added, “How can you possibly be smitten with me? We barely know each other.”

“It feels like fate,” answered Glorfindel, and the way it was said gave Erestor an odd feeling at the bottom of his spine.

Erestor’s fingers worried the pendant again. “Fate or not, I would like to get out of here before that centipede calls upon his friends and brings an army to defeat me. My eyes are tired; would you mind reading the book to me?”

“You have never read it?” asked Glorfindel.

“Not really. I know what it is about.” He paused. “I think I know what it is about.”

“I have almost finished reading it. I could summarize for you,” offered Glorfindel.

“Just to be sure, I think I should like to know all of it. Well… no, I should almost like to know none of it, but I think I need to know all of it at this point,” Erestor corrected.

“Oh.” Glorfindel frowned. “So, you dislike this sort of thing?”

“I am unopinionated, as I should be,” said Erestor. “My job is to see to it other people – such as Arwen and yourself – are able to read what they like, no matter what I like or dislike. I have never been one for fluff and romance.”

“I am beginning to understand that,” Glorfindel said. “Maybe we should rethink the idea of proving the things in the book. In fact, maybe you should just burn the book and be done with all of this.”

“I refuse to give up. Today it is one book, tomorrow, a bonfire. Besides… how hard can it be?” asked Erestor without really considering his words.

\+ * + * +

“Do you want me to read the next chapter, or call it a night?”

“How—why—what—no, how—“ Erestor shook his head. “Why—“

“Or, I could reread this chapter,” offered Glorfindel. They were leaned against the wall, side by side, Erestor unaware that the centipede was teasing him now and again by reaching a leg out to step on the coif or a strand of hair. The first four chapters were just as Erestor had expected – a drawn out set-up for whatever was to come after. He had not expected the things after to be quite as detailed as they were in chapter five. “Erestor?”

“How—“

“Maybe that is enough for the night…”

Erestor lifted a hand to the book, keeping it from being closed. “No. Read me the rest. Please,” he added when Glorfindel did not appear he would.

“Are you sure?”

Erestor’s fingernails scraped along the etched side of the pendant as he nodded. “Yes, please,” he said as he turned his head and nodded directly to Glorfindel, and in the faint candlelight and the ever-present glow, he had to admit to himself that Glorfindel was actually kind of handsome, too.


	6. Loss of Control

“If I had a daughter, and I caught her reading that, I would not be half as kind as Elrond.”

While Erestor was sitting against the wall fighting off a headache, Glorfindel was lounged on the floor on his fourth reading of the book from what Erestor could tell. “Do you want children?” wondered Glorfindel.

“I do not even want a goldfish.”

Glofindel smiled. “What about…nev—“

“A lover? That was what you were about to ask,” stated Erestor.

Glorfindel chewed at his lip but did not answer.

“You do realize I never even had a roommate before.”

“No siblings?”

“No siblings, no cousins, no friends, as we already established.” Erestor closed his eyes and rubbed his head.

“I was the youngest of five.” Glorfindel closed the book and set it aside. “Three sisters and a brother. I never had my own room growing up.”

“Big family,” commented Erestor.

Glorfindel nodded. “We had a large extended family as well.”

“I would wager every one of them is as fair as you are, with curly hair and dimpled faces,” guessed Erestor.

“For the most part,” Glorfindel confirmed.

Erestor sighed and stretched his legs out. “And you really think it would be a good idea to bring an Avari into that?”

Glorfindel sat up quickly with great interest. “You are Avarin?”

“Only half. My mother was a Nando.”

“How did you ever end up in Imladris?” questioned Glorfindel. “And how have –you- never been camping?”

“I was born in Imladris,” said Erestor. “As for my parents, dark creatures encroached upon the lands where they lived, and there were always stories of people being stolen away in the night to replenish the orcs. They just decided that it would be safer for them if they found a civilized place.”

“Another piece of the puzzle,” Glorfindel mumbled.

Erestor yawned and stretched. Glorfindel read the whole book to him, which took them through the night and into the morning – or at least, it felt like it had. Erestor bordered between thoughts of napping and the inability to sleep when it felt like he should be awake. “You certainly seem set on something ridiculous like courtship, so you may as well be aware of what you would be getting into.”

At the top of the stairs, the door opened, and after a bit of shuffling, they saw Arwen once again, as promised. She had a larger woven basket held to one side against her hip which appeared to be heaped with clothing or bedding, and had a lit candelabrum in the other. “I remembered the corkscrew,” she said proudly as she set down the candles in order to pass it through the bars to them. The sheet over the top concealed the items inside. This time in addition to the food and more wine, Arwen brought along a checkers game, a comb, a small mirror, two small but soft cushions to serve as better pillows, and a pouch containing a few small pieces of soap.

“I need to hurry today. Father spotted me and thinks I am out hanging sheets and things to freshen them up. Which reminds me – Erestor, I need your robes.”

Erestor had been in the process of organizing all of the newly acquired items despite his headache and lack of sleep. “Whatever for?” he questioned.

“I need something to hang out, and you can plainly tell that Glorfindel’s clothes are clothes.”

“As are mine,” debated Erestor.

“Yes, but yours are so billowy and plain that they can be confused for linens if you are not wearing them.” Arwen made sure everything was out of the basket. “I need to take something outside with me. I can bring them back later.”

Erestor froze the frown on his face, but he quickly removed the heavy outer layer and fed it back through the bars to Arwen. “I trust that will be sufficient?” he asked. There was a sort of robe beneath the robe that he wore, and Arwen puffed the fabric in the basket to try to make it look larger than it was.

“I thought it would, but it seems a bit flat. Can I have that other one, too?”

“No.”

“Erestor, she is going to bring them back as soon as she can.”

Erestor turned his head slowly and glared at his cellmate. “I would prefer to keep this on. I already feel half-naked.”

“I will not need the clothes you have on under that robe,” argued Arwen. “You can keep your shirt and pants on.”

“That is the problem.” Erestor spoke slowly and looked back even slower. “Are you certain you cannot make do without?”

Arwen lifted the basket, and it did appear much less filled than when she arrived. “I can bring pants back for you, too!” she offered.

“Unnecessary. Look away, if you please.” Erestor carefully unwound the sash from around his waist. “You, too,” he scolded when he caught Glorfindel looking at him. Glorfindel sighed but turned away. There was a little shuffling about, but Erestor was very swift and not long after was settled on the floor. “Alright. I want those back as promptly as possible.” 

Arwen turned around and picked up the robe that Erestor settled between the bars. He had folded it, so she had to shake it out and crinkle it a bit as she positioned it in the basket. Erestor curled his fingers into one of the throws that he now had covering his legs and attempted not to cringe too outwardly as he watched the fabric being crumpled and wrinkled. “I better go,” said Arwen as she gathered the basket and the candelabrum. 

“Glorfindel, there is a list over there.” Erestor made a motion with his hand. “Would you mind giving it to Arwen?”

After he retrieved the list and handed it to Arwen, Glorfindel watched as she climbed the stairs and shut the door at the top of the steps. “I am very sorry. I assumed, as I could see the collar of your shirt, you must be wearing pants.”

Erestor busied himself with stretching the throw out more to cover his feet (now that his shoes were set in the far corner, gifted to the centipede when he saw the bobbing feelers peeking out of one earlier). 

“We could have Arwen bring some extra clothing. I admit, I do not fancy the idea of wearing just this for however long it takes us to get out of here,” said Glorfindel as he motioned to his own clothing.

Erestor rubbed his face and tried to organize a little nest area to curl up in.

“Let me make the list,” offered Glorfindel as he retrieved some paper and a quill. “What do you think, three or four shirts each, perhaps an extra pair of pants? Two for you,” he corrected as he began to write.

“None for me.”

“Pants would be more practical than robes,” reasoned Glorfindel.

Erestor sighed. “I do not own any.”

Glorfindel blinked and looked up. “No pants?”

“No pants.”

“What do you wear when you ride?”

Erestor closed his eyes and let out a languid sigh. “When I travel, I find it improper to ride upon a horse. I travel exclusively by carriage.”

“You never learned to ride a horse?”

“I know how to ride.”

“But, in robes?”

Erestor found the pouch of candied almonds and untied the little string around the top. He selected a green one and popped it in his mouth. “I can ride,” he reiterated.

“With robes?”

Again, Erestor rubbed at his face. He mumbled something that Glorfindel requested that he repeat. “Side saddle,” he repeated in a clear voice. He paused as if to give time for Glorfindel to laugh, but no laughter was heard. “I am going to take a nap,” announced Erestor. “Do what you wish.” He settled down, then added, “Within reason.”

“I like the idea of a nap.” Glorfindel slowly meandered around to put the newly delivered items into various places, which meant that Erestor was asleep when he settled down as close as he dared to nap with him.


	7. Dependency

“Look! I brought you pants!”

Erestor looked up from the move on the checker board that he was pondering. “Those are not my robes.”

“No... I am so sorry, Erestor! I tried to find out where you live, but everyone seems to think you live in the library, which is just ridiculous! I mean, who would ever live right in the same place they work? Live in the library – honestly! So I had to find something, and I mean, pants are so much easier to find than robes are. Ask any ranger around, and they always seem to have spares! Some of them have an entire pack of pants that they carry around in case someone needs--”

“Lady Arwen,” cut off Erestor, “before we find we have engaged in a conversation about rangers and their assumed surplus of leggings and trousers, could you not possibly just take a moment to retrieve the robes for me?”

“But I brought you pants.” Arwen held them out, and not one, but two pairs, tucked into a much smaller basket than the last one she had. “I am sorry, Erestor, but your robes would not fit this time.”

Erestor eyed the pants with immense suspicion. “What happened to the other basket?”

“Uhm... you see, father was beginning to wonder why I was doing so much work when we have the maid. I had to leave the robes in her care – but do not worry,” she said quickly as Erestor paled. “They are tucked safely under my bed!”

“So you brought spare ranger pants instead.”

“Oh, no, no, you are way too skinny for ranger pants,” decreed Arwen as she began to hand things through the bars to Glorfindel, whom Erestor noticed now had remained very quiet during the exchange. “They would fall right down again unless you had a belt on, and then I would need to procure a belt, and it probably would not have enough holes in it to make it tight enough, so then I would need to remedy that, and I am running late as it is!”

As she spoke, Erestor leaned back, a little more each time, until he was lying on the ground staring at the ceiling with expressionless eyes. “Thank you, Arwen,” offered Glorfindel. “I think you can understand that this entire ordeal has been very trying on Erestor.” Arwen nodded. “Can you see if there might be any way for you to bring those robes back today?”

“I can try, but I need to wash them first.”

Erestor groaned.

“It was not my fault,” piped up Arwen. “I was coming back into the suite so quietly, and Elladan turned around but did not expect me there, and he was holding a glass of wine. Well, we are all so lucky you only wear somber colors, so the wine did not stain too much, but your robes smell of merlot.”

“Fantastic. Scented robes. Maybe I can start a fashion trend,” answered Erestor in a near monotone.

“Oh, no, I will wash them first,” promised Arwen. “Or maybe the maid will. Either way, we will see to them! Is there anything else I can bring next time?”

“Just the robes,” answered Erestor firmly.

Following Arwen’s retreat, Glorfindel walked to Erestor and held out the garments Arwen had delivered. “Would you at least like to try them on?”

“No,” answered Erestor in a sour voice, but he reached up and yanked them away from Glorfindel all the same. “I am done playing games for the day,” he added in reference to the now discarded checker board. Glorfindel nodded and knelt down to clean up the pieces while Erestor sat up and examined both pairs of pants. He, too, had some reservations on whether much of anything brought would keep from sliding down without a belt, but one of the pairs had a string through the hemming, and he tossed the other aside. At least they were both black. “Would you mind...” Erestor noticed as he looked up that Glorfindel was already a few paces away with his back turned. “Thank you.”

“I apologize that this ordeal has been more trying on you than it has been on me,” offered Glorfindel.

“Yes, about that,” said Erestor as he stepped into one of the legs of the pants. “How is it that you have managed to remain so calm about all of this? Do you not have any concern of what Lord Elrond may do once we are released, if we are released? Do you not worry that by now likely the entire valley knows of what happened?”

“I was very shocked the first day,” admitted Glorfindel slowly. “You seemed to handle it fine at that point,” he noted.

“I am still handling it fine. I am very frustrated that my robes have been ruined and that I am now wearing an utter waste of fabric because of that, and I shall be livid if I return to find that in my absence Lord Elrond placed Lindir or someone equally incapable of running the library in charge of it. I could care less what anyone in the valley thinks of me. Including you,” he added, in case that was necessary.

Glorfindel bowed his head, back still turned to Erestor. Erestor looked down as well and then walked up to Glorfindel and tapped his shoulder. “Sorry,” he said as Glorfindel turned his head. “What I mean is—“

“If I were to chastise you over this, if there should be a loss of friendship or other sorts of censure, it would not be something which would bother you.” Glorfindel did not wait for a reply, and instead looked down and smiled. “They look fine,” he said, and Erestor assumed he meant the pants, so he scowled. “Alright. Out with it.”

“Out with what?” questioned Erestor, but he knew full well what Glorfindel meant.

“Whatever event occurred in your past or whatever memory you have that prevents you from wanting to wear pants. We may only have been down here for a few days, but I know you well enough by now—in fact, I would wager I know you better than some of the people here who have known you for millennia.”

“It would be hard to know me for millennia, no matter who the person is.”

“Aha!”

Erestor blinked and groaned loudly as he stomped off the short distance that he could. “You were waiting for something like that to trick me!”

“I was going to start with ages, but I had a pretty good feeling that would have been farfetched.” Glorfindel grinned, and Erestor made another noise of disgust. “Come, now, I told you that you could ask me anything. I have to learn about you in some fashion.”

Erestor held both arms up, palms facing Glorfindel to stop him from saying anything more for a moment. He closed his eyes and shook his head and cleared his throat and opened his eyes to see that Glorfindel was still grinning. And for the first time, he smiled – he actually smiled – and sighed, and said, “One hundred and eighty-nine.” He smirked as Glorfindel blinked several times and covered his shocked expression. “Had I known that would leave you speechless, I might have done it days ago. Since I have your attention, and you obviously seem overwhelmed by this revelation, maybe this will make you rethink your previous idea of fate or whatever you want to call it.”

“Oh, on the contrary... do you know how many years it has been since my rebirth?”

“If you tell me one hundred and eighty-nine, I am not going to believe you.”

Glorfindel appeared quite excited now, and he grabbed hold of Erestor’s hands. “Three hundred and eighty-five! I was so worried that you were going to be ever so much older than I am, and not have any interest in me what-so-ever.”

“So... instead I am so much younger and have no interest what-so-ever?” asked a puzzled Erestor. He expected that would make Glorfindel let go of his hands, but in fact, it had the reverse effect.

Glorfindel squeezed Erestor’s hands and stepped closer, though the invasion of space shocked Erestor to the point of freezing him in place. “Oh, no, Erestor, no... I thought for certain you had to be older. You are so wise and intelligent and considerate and simply nothing that would point to being a youth.”

“I am not a youth,” interrupted Erestor. “I have a respectable profession and a rank befitting my abilities.”

“There is no doubt in that,” agreed Glorfindel. “Still, I feel that had you been as old as I was beginning to think you might have been, your experiences alone would have made any possibility for us rather difficult.”

“There is no us yet.” Erestor winced at his own words. “I mean, there is no us.”

“Yet,” punctuated Glorfindel, and that stupid grin was back on his face. “You are young, and I feel young. No one sees me as I am; they think I am ages old. I have no recollection of the Second Age because for me I did not exist during that time. I spent nearly four thousand years in a state of unbeing, and thus my experiences from the First Age are akin to a long dream before a deep enchanted sleep. I have had to relearn everything, and I feel I impose so greatly on those who will speak with me as a... a comrade or a... well, few people will speak with me. Most think me too old, and those who do take the time would rather... well, the things I want to do, they would think silly and juvenile.”

“Are we talking about camping again?” wondered Erestor. He felt it was rude that his palms were sweating, but Glorfindel’s grip was tight and he did not think it polite to tug his hands away.

“It could be camping, it could be... anything, really. Running barefoot through the grass, swimming after dark, napping in field of flowers, telling stories by the fire... playing checkers,” he added with a nod to the game set aside. “I should have guessed it with the checkers... you grew up with Arwen, that is why she is so attentive, and why she knew some of the things to bring you, and why a checker game and not chess pieces or—“ The smile suddenly faded, the hands loosened their grip, and Glorfindel took a step away. “Arwen would be your age... and you already have a prestigious station...”

It took Erestor a moment before he could understand why Glorfindel was walking away from him to sit down and pull his knees up to hug his legs as he often seemed to do. “Arwen and I did grow up together. We had the same nurse, and the same governess. We were never particularly close, but she was one of the few peers during my childhood who did not openly mock me, steal my books, knock over my inkwell, or engage in a hundred other things she could have. My mother was Lord Elrond’s previous chief advisor; my position has nothing to do with Arwen and everything to do with who I am, what I learned, and how my very analytical and patient mind works.” 

Erestor approached Glorfindel slowly. “There may be no us... yet,” he added cautiously as he sat down in front of Glorfindel, “but if I were forced to choose between you and Arwen... well, I had thought we had established all of this already.” The centipede was making its rounds on the wall nearby, but Erestor ignored it. “I think you are very kind, and I think you have many positive qualities. I do think you may find yourself unhappy if we were to move in the direction of some sort of relationship beyond friendship, but I—“

There was a click at the top of the stairs, and both of them turned their heads simultaneously. “Arwen could not make it back so soon,” whispered Erestor as they heard the creak of the door. Both stood up and closed the distance to the bars and waited as the sounds of several pairs of feet briskly approaching were heard. “Seneschal,” greeted Erestor as soon as he caught a glimpse of Lindir between the light of a torch and the faint glow from Glorfindel. “We are honored for your visit. What news?”

“Stand back, please,” he instructed as one of the guards who had accompanied him brought out a ring of keys. “Captain Glorfindel, I have been instructed to see to your release. It was addressed in council that your transgressions were only made possible due to the acts of Master Erestor.” 

“And what of Erestor?” asked Glorfindel as the door swung open. One of the guards held up a spear to separate the pair in the cell and allow Glorfindel passage to the open doorway while it kept Erestor blocked from escape.

“Lord Elrond did not allow discussion of Master Erestor’s fate to take place.” Lindir did not look particularly apologetic about this.

“I think I shall stay until that occurs,” replied Glorfindel.

Lindir motioned to the other two guards. “Yes, I had that feeling,” he explained as Glorfindel was forced from the cell. The guards exited and locked the door once again. Erestor stood alone, arms crossed, while Glorfindel grabbed for one of the bars but was shuffled up the stairway. “Just so that we are clear, Erestor,” added Lindir before he, too, ascended the stairs, “I may still be seneschal, but at this time it would be proper to address me as Master Lindir, now that I have assumed your duties in your absence.” 

Erestor waited until the door at the top of the stairs was locked again before he moved. Moving was a problem – he stepped on the checker pieces and injured a toe, grabbed for what he thought was a candle and ended up squishing something that was once possibly edible, and burned himself when he tried to light the candle he did find. At some point, he was certain that the centipede was crawling all over him—not because it actually was, but because he could not check to make sure it was on the wall or in his shoe. When he finally sat down in the near darkness, he realized that he was not only alone, but that he was lonely. 

There was no one to talk to, no one to read with – stupid book—and no one to play a game with. No one there asking him dumb questions or to share the meager meal. Erestor circled around the candle on the floor several times, his right hand near his throat, fingers worrying at the silver chain or the pendant. “Shit,” he finally cursed under his breath, and found it was not because he was locked away, unable to attend to the library and the patrons, or even his duties as advisor, but because the only person he could safely count as a friend had just been torn away from him, and he now felt utterly lost.


	8. Letters

Erestor sat cross-legged on the floor at the center of the cell. He had to be sure he could see if Creeper was crawling toward him – not because he was still trying to avoid the centipede, but because he had nearly stepped on him and did not want to make that mistake. In Erestor’s lap was a pile of letters he shuffled through and reread. He picked up one of them, written in a very steady hand. He could not say the same about the others.

_  
Dear Glorfindel,_

_I write to thank you for your kindness during your time spent in the dungeon with me. Your bright light – no pun intended – kept my spirits up even if I did not always outwardly show such emotion. I hope when I finally resume my duties in the house that you will not think ill of me. Perhaps we might even spend a little of our recreational time together. While I cannot promise I will want to go camping, I do know you are a formidable checkers player and would welcome a rematch._

_Sincerely,_

_Erestor  
_

The one beneath it was the next one he had written. He kept them all in order, in case Arwen were to appear, so that he could give them to her to deliver for him. If Arwen came back. He wondered if perhaps Arwen was not really coming to the dungeon because of him, but because of Glorfindel. Or did someone find his robes under her bed and forbid her to aid him? Or had she herself been victim of her father’s wrath?

Erestor lifted the next letter and reread it quietly.

_  
Dear Glorfindel,_

_As best I can tell, two full days have passed since you were cleared of your charges. In reflection, I am very happy that you were not left here to the tortures of this gloomy place. I should have done more to argue your lack of guilt to Lord Elrond. Please forgive me that I did not think to do so at the time._

_At the same time, I find myself glad for the time spent with you. It was a true pleasure to finally have someone to converse with on matters unrelated to the running of Imladris other than the statue. In fact, Feanor never answers back (not that I should want him to), and I have grown to realize that I have tired of my one-sided discussions with an inanimate object._

_I also realized that I left questions unanswered, and that is a truly unforgivable offense for a librarian to do. Thus, I hope I have recalled those things which I was not forthcoming about._

_The reason I do not wear pants has to do with my mother. She was a scholar; I never really explained how she met my father. She was on a scholastic adventure and came across the tribe. She spent many years learning about them and studying them. When she and my father came to Imladris, they spent most of their time chronicling the Avari. When I was born, she wanted to do many of the things most other mothers do for their children. One of those things was making clothing for me. Shirts were decent, and stockings were easy enough, but she could not seem to do very well with pants. Sometimes they were baggy in the seat, or the legs would not be the same length. However, she was my mother, the person I loved more than anything, and I wore those terrible looking trousers despite the taunts and teasing of my peers._

_When I was a little older and was allowed to serve as a page at the council meetings, I saw the elaborate robes worn by Lord Elrond and my mother and the other scribes and scholars. I asked her if I might have a robe like hers for my begetting day, and when that day arrived, I had four of them. There was a midnight blue one, and a green one, and one that was ochre and a scarlet one. My favorite color is yellow, so I put the ochre one on immediately and I so proudly wore it everywhere that day._

_I thought, perhaps too optimistically, that the teasing would abate. Instead, the snickering continued behind my back. A few days later, I was at one of the council meetings wearing those lovely golden robes, and one of the other pages was dared by the others to trip into me while he was carrying the tray of ink pots. I ran home crying, the robes ruined. My mother dismissed herself from council to come and find me. She dried my tears and looked the robes over and told me she could fix it. Mothers are magical creatures, as you may well know, and fix them she did. When she next showed them to me, they were black as soot, for she dyed them. No longer could anyone spill ink on me to embarrass me. Ever since, my robes have been black or deep brown or something very dark._

_I also recall that I avoided your question on whether I felt I was beautiful or not. The trouble is that I was a very weak child. My mother was unable to nurse me, and the wet nurse we had always tended to Arwen first. In the nursery, as we were growing up, my first experiences with the cruelty of other children came at my expense, with other boys remarking in their simplistic babble that I was too pretty to be a boy. I heard words and phrases like ‘princess’ and ‘little lady’ used in the most derogatory fashion. I even went through a phase where I neglected to brush my hair so that my mother had to cut it short to get the snarls out, and still, I was still subject to the name calling. I keep myself as presentable as possible, but I do nothing to enhance my appearance. It is easier this way._

_I will do my best to answer the other questions in the next letter. Until then, I hope you are well. I think Creeper misses you, but I will do my best to keep him company for now._

_Sincerely,_

_Erestor  
_

The centipede likely did not know what it was to miss someone, reflected Erestor. On the other hand, it seemed that the creature was melancholy without Glorfindel around. “I am beginning to lose it,” reasoned Erestor. He began to read the next letter, and the next, making it to the last letter, the one that was shaky and half-scribbled. He had only finished this one an hour or so ago, so the words were still fresh in his mind.

_  
Dear Glorfindel,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. There is little to report from the basement. There is still an unknown source of seepage, and I discovered at least three distinct types of mold growing around the edges of the cell. I also developed a version of checkers that one can play on their own. Perhaps when I next see you, I could teach it to you._

_There was a question you asked that I did not address in the other letters. Maybe it is inappropriate to discuss at this point, especially since I never confirmed with certainty that you even meant to specifically ask the question. However, I believe I understood your intention, if not the specific query._

_No one has taken a particularly positive interest in me, beyond my parents. I gained my position, as I said, due to my abilities and skills, and my training. No one ever seemed to question the idea that I would succeed my mother in becoming Elrond’s chief advisor. It was unexpected that I did so as early as I did. I feel that is something we need to discuss, but not something to be shared in a letter._

_I find myself missing you. I cannot guarantee all of the things that I suspect you want out of a relationship, but what I meant to say to you before the rather rude interruption the other day was that I would be willing to try. I only ask that you be patient with me, try not to laugh too much at my inexperience and insecurity, and speak of my failures to no one. If you find those terms to be within reason, please inform me of your conditions. I do not know how long I shall remain here, but I would be willing to begin with correspondence if that is the best we are able to do at present._

_If you find this offer to be insanely ridiculous, say no more of it and it will be forgotten._

_Yours truly,_

_Erestor  
_

With a heavy sigh, Erestor looked around. There was no sign of Glorfindel in the cell. Arwen had not reappeared since the day she brought him pants. Erestor did not think of it as the day Arwen brought him pants, though. He thought of it as the day that bastard know-it-all mother-fucking pain in the ass shithead Lindir took Glorfindel away from him. Insult to injury. Lindir was probably up in the house right now telling Lord Elrond that they needed a larger music conservatory, and since hardly anyone used the library, it made more sense to move the library up into the east tower where the music rooms were now and give Lindir the space for a suitable school for bards and minstrels and in that case, the rooms that Erestor had should now be his and in that case, why did he even keep Erestor around? He should really be turned loose like the wild beast he was.

Erestor quickly moved the letters before any more tears could smear the words. He hastily wiped his tears and let out an uncontrolled gasp of a sob before he could swallow it away. Creeper ventured out from his shoehouse and climbed onto Erestor’s shoulder for moral support.

The sound of the door caused a moment of panic. Erestor stood up so quickly that the letters scattered about, and Creeper scurried down his back and off into his corner again. Erestor turned away, breathed in deeply, and brushed his sleeve across his face as he listened to the sound of heavy boots on the stairway. “You.” Erestor drew his head up, turning so that he could just barely look upon the pair of guards. “Get over here.” The door was being unlocked, and Erestor threaded his fingers together behind his back and slowly strolled to the doorway. The guard who did not address him grabbed hold of his shoulder when he was close enough and yanked him the rest of the way out. Erestor realized having his hands behind his back was a mistake a moment later when the first guard locked his wrists into shackles and shoved a hand into Erestor's back. “Get going.”

“Such eloquence in your language, gentlemen,” responded Erestor as he navigated his way up the steps. “You nearly had me fooled into thinking I was a guest at Lord Cirdan’s house.”

Neither guard replied. Instead, they pushed Erestor along until they reached a solid wooden door. Erestor was not particularly familiar with the layout of the underground area, which meant he was not sure where they were. The shackles were removed, and the guards stepped away. “Strip,” demanded one of the guards as the other slid a key into the door.

“I thought it was customary to at least have dinner first,” mumbled Erestor, but he did not argue with the command. If it was Lord Elrond’s plan to divest him of every single shred of dignity he had, so be it. The joke would be on Elrond soon enough. Erestor was already formulating his resignation in between the writing of letters to Glorfindel. When he was naked, the door was opened, and he was shoved in. “You have fifteen minutes,” he was warned as the door was shut behind him.


	9. Washday

The room was not exactly a room, as Erestor soon learned. It was part of a room. It opened out onto a natural ledge of rock with some small and sturdy trees growing between the cracks, and one of the waterfalls roaring down the smoothed rocks. It created a shower of water that came over to hit the ledge and sweep down again through the maze of boulders. Erestor found it to be far fancier than necessary for a dungeon, but now was not the time to question why the architect of Imladris decided to create something of beauty in such a dreary place. Certainly something less ornate would have functioned just as well, but for now, Erestor would have been content with a bucket of water to dump over his head. He had not bathed in over a week, and no one had to tell him what to do next.

There was a bench with towels and folded clothing, soap, and cloths for washing. Erestor picked up the soap and a cloth and hesitated no further. He closed his eyes when he approached, as the spray of water speckled his eyelashes and face with droplets. “Mmmm… oh, yes…” Erestor tilted his head back and let the water run over his face and through his hair. He groaned again as he stretched his arms over his head. Despite the chill of the water, it was refreshing to be cleansed of the dirt and grime of the cell.

Erestor rolled his shoulders and then arched his back to feel the water tumble down his chest. With a relaxed sigh, he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and opened them to make sure he was not going to step off the ledge and slip on the boulders.

And he promptly let out some sort of a scream-yelp, dropped the soap and the cloth, and could not decide where to hug his arms and what to cover up. “Have you been here the whole time?!”

“Since you arrived in this room? Yes.” Glorfindel was perched on one of the higher ledges. He had been concealed from the entrance of the bathing chamber between the rocks and the water, but now he was directly in Erestor’s sight. “I did not mean to startle you, but I was lost in my thoughts until a moment ago.”

Torn between picking up the cloth to throw it at Glorfindel and climbing up the boulders to hug him, Erestor sighed and muttered, “Honestly...” He stooped down to pick up the soap and the cloth as he made the decision that now that Glorfindel had seen him in such a state, and he had seen Glorfindel, he was not going to waste the thirteen minutes he had left worrying about his pride. “Do they know you are in here?”

“Yes. You mean the guards?” asked Glorfindel. Erestor nodded. “Yes. They know. They brought me here instead of back to the cell upon my request.” He climbed carefully down. “A lot of things have happened over the last few days.”

“I hear that.” Erestor began with methodically washing his face. “Have you spoken with Lord Elrond? How is Arwen? And has Lindir the Master Asshole of Imladris taken over my library yet?”

Glorfindel scrubbed at his hair as a smile emerged. “I did realize that Lindir is a bit of a shit.”

“A bit? That bloody cunt-sucking son of a motherless orc has been proliferating in his assholery for as long as I have been alive. He was probably perfecting his techniques in the womb.”

“At least you will not be upset to know he seems to have it in for you,” informed Glorfindel. “My initial inclination was to figure out what I could do to get into enough trouble so that they would throw me back into the dungeon. I decided that might not have the anticipated outcome. So I just took myself right to Lord Elrond’s office and I told him that we were working on a resolution, but without me there, it would delay things immensely.”

Erestor frowned as he rested the wet cloth over his shoulder and lathered his hair to the roots. “So you told Lord Elrond about your idea?”

“No. I told him that I spoke to you in confidence, and that I would not betray your trust.”

The frown dissolved. “Thank you.”

“Besides Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian and Master Lindir were in the room when I went to speak of what was going on. Lindir wanted to see you banished or left here to rot. Lady Celebrian agreed with my suggestion of having you placed under something of house arrest.” Glorfindel reached out to snatch the washcloth before it slid from Erestor’s shoulder. “When it was asked if you would be allowed to leave your rooms and go into the library, Lindir argued that would be no different than your regular routine.”

“He has a point. It makes him no less an asshole.” Erestor took the cloth when Glorfindel offered it back and one of the guards opened the door to shout to them that they had ten minutes left. “So the compromise between banishment and house arrest is to leave me in the dungeon?”

“More or less. Lady Celebrian did manage to get Lord Elrond to agree that we should be allowed to bathe each day. You can thank me for that,” added Glorfindel with a little chuckle. “I went to that meeting without freshening up and I guess I must have smelled foul, for I sat beside her and she went from sitting straight up to leaning halfway out of her chair by the end.”

“Much appreciated,” said Erestor as he gave Glorfindel a little bow. “Here, do you think you could scrub my back for me, considering how little time we have?”

Glorfindel took hold of the cake of soap. “Uh... sure...” He stepped closer. “So, uhm... so... there was something else... Lady Celebrian... oh, she, right, she told Lord Elrond he had to bring a mattress or something down because it was cruel to make us sleep on the floor.” Glorfindel swallowed hard and turned around. “You are going to need to wash your own back. Sorry.”

“Oh?” Erestor looked at Glorfindel quizzically, noted the blush on his neck, and slid an arm over Glorfindel’s shoulder to take possession of the soap again. “No worries,” he assured Glorfindel, though, with the rush of the water, his reply was quiet, and with how close he was in order to take the soap back, he was practically speaking into Glorfindel ear. Erestor arched a brow as he faintly heard Glorfindel groan, but he returned to his task as the guard called out a five minute warning. “Did anything else happen while you were up there?”

“I had a chance to speak to Arwen. I gathered a number of things and put them in a basket in my room. She is going to bring them tomorrow; I asked she not come today as I would hate for her to be caught,” explained Glorfindel.

Erestor nodded. “Good idea. Are my robes in the basket?” he asked hopefully.

“No. They would not fit, and I thought you would want them back sooner,” said Glorfindel. “You did not notice them by the door, did you?”

“Is that what was on the bench?” Erestor peered out past the water excitedly. 

“Laundered, pressed, and you would never know anyone ever spilled a thing on them,” promised Glorfindel.

“You are wonderful!”

“There should be someone in the dungeon right now bringing the mattress down there, and proper bedding. I made sure that we will have clean clothing and decent meals. I suppose Lindir may still find a way to dispute that we should not be treated so well while locked away, but Lady Celebrian is better informed of the situation now and will probably act as an advocate for us.” Glorfindel looked over his shoulder. “I also made sure that she was appointed to act in your stead in the library until you have returned.”

“You did all that for me?” Erestor smiled briefly, and then withdrew it. “You hardly know me,” he scolded, but Glorfindel only shrugged. Erestor busied himself with washing the suds off so that he could dry off and be back in his coveted robes once more. Glorfindel had yet to turn around, so Erestor took the opportunity to say something that seemed easier to state to a muscled back and dripping swirls of golden hair than it would be if he was looking at Glorfindel directly in the eyes. “Glorfindel, I missed you.”

Erestor could almost feel the joy radiating from Glorfindel as he turned around and smiled at him. “I missed you, too, Erestor.”

“Mmhmm.” Erestor’s gaze flicked down for a moment before he looked up again. “I can see that.”

Glorfindel turned back around again as the guards announced that they needed to dry off and get dressed immediately. “You go first,” mumbled Glorfindel as Erestor deposited the soap and the cloth in a small bin. “I will be right out,” Glorfindel promised.


	10. Virginity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, readers! I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has been reading, to glomp and huggle everyone who commented (here, to livejournal, or through tumblr), and for keeping on with this story even though this has been about the longest prologue ever (maybe it's just me, but it seems like everything before the smut for a story marked explicit is kinda like an extended prologue). Anyhow! We're not there yet, but we're definitely in the carpool lane now.
> 
> If you'd like to come chat with me about elves or offer suggestions for stories, please feel free. zhiester on skype, zhie on discord, & z_h_i_e @ The Tumbler (and that probably outed my tumblr ask elf account, but I'm okay with that - and if that didn't do it - *draws you a pretty picture with scented markers*)
> 
> Enjoy!

Erestor hardly minded when the manacles were locked around his wrists once again as he exited the room. He was properly dressed, and there was the expectation of a meal, not just bread and fruit, or the odd assortment of items that Arwen brought. Thankful as he was for what Arwen provided, he was already trying to guess what food Lady Celebrian might have sent to them, and all of the possibilities were good. While he occasionally wished she did not mother him as she tended to, there were other times he appreciated the preferential treatment he received from the lady of the house, and today, he would welcome it.

The first thing Erestor noticed when they returned to the cell was the fresh water that replaced the dirty in one bucket and that the other had been replaced with a proper stand and water pitcher. The chamber pot was finally empty (though the foul odor still lingered for now), and there was indeed a mattress in the middle of the room. Glorfindel entered first, for he was not shackled as Erestor had been. “Supper will be delivered in an hour,” stated the guard, as if he knew what was on Erestor’s mind. 

Erestor let out a little sigh when he heard the door lock at the top of the stairs. When he turned, he found Glorfindel perched on the edge of the mattress with a piece of paper in his hands. It took Erestor a moment to realize what it probably was, which was confirmed when Glorfindel looked up and said, “You named the centipede.”

“Here. If you are going to read them, start at the beginning.” Erestor walked briskly by and filched the letter. He circled around the mattress to collect up all of the errant unsent correspondence, and even bent down to lift the corner of the mattress to be sure that none of the letters were trapped beneath it. He shuffled through them and handed the stack to Glorfindel. “There. They should be in order now. I just noticed I misspelled something on the fourth one, but if you do not notice it, I am not going to rewrite it.”

Glorfindel set the stack to his left and picked up the first letter. “Now I feel terrible. I never thought to write to you the whole time I was gone.”

“Half of my day is spent writing,” said Erestor dismissively. He checked about the room for various items and upon finding the comb he crossed back to the mattress, which was old and dipped in a few places, but it was not a floor, and that was the beautiful thing about it. Erestor knelt down upon it directly behind Glorfindel. There had been no brush or comb in the room where they had showered, and so detangling had to be done with fingers. Erestor’s hair was particularly cooperative, but he could tell that waves and curls were not as compliant as straight hair. He reached out to take up a small section of the damp blond hair and was met by an elbow to the jaw.

“Erestor! I am so sorry!” The letter was discarded and Glorfindel scrambled to place a hand worriedly upon Erestor’s shoulder. “Sorry! It was completely reflexive! I sort of panic when my hair is touched.”

“Noticed that.” Erestor rubbed his jaw. The comb had been dropped, and he picked it up with his free hand. “Here. You should make sure it does not tangle.”

Glorfindel looked helplessly at the comb and shook his head. “You can do it. I mean, not that you have to or I am demanding it or something, just, if you want to, I promise not to do that again. Sorry! I should have thought a moment more,” he reprimanded himself. “Are you alright? Should we call for a healer? Will anyone even hear us? What would we do if something happened and we needed a healer?”

“Shh. Sit. Read. I am not made of glass.” Erestor set the comb back down so that he could position Glorfindel back to sitting with one of the letters. “Do you braid your hair or leave it loose?”

“Um... I...” Glorfindel lowered the letter and peeked over his shoulder. “I never learned how to braid hair,” he admitted in a whisper.

Erestor leaned a little closer and responded in the same hushed tone. “Your name is Glorfindel and you do not know how to braid hair?”

“Nope.”

Erestor stared at the blue eyes that stared back at his grey ones. He had never been this close to Glorfindel, or anyone, before. Never been close enough to notice faint freckles or the lines on another person's lips. Even in the dim light, Glorfindel's lips looked soft. It would be so easy to lean in just a little closer to find out. “Honestly,” he replied before he sat back and started to comb through the blond tresses. “Luckily, I do know how.”

\+ * + * +

By the time supper was delivered, Erestor had braided Glorfindel’s hair and his own hair before once again covering his head with the coif, and Glorfindel had read through all of the letters once, except for the last one. The last one had been read, grinned about, reread, bashfully referred to as he discussed how to move forward with the plan, read again, and was resting on one knee as they ate. Erestor was fairly certain that Glorfindel continued to read through it as they ate, and yet, neither had yet made a mention of the specific item which really needed to be discussed.

With so many possible topics to converse over, Erestor decided he had to choose something that was both interesting, and at the same time had some sort of scholastic merit. There were several items they could talk about, but so many of them were things that Erestor was well versed in – not necessarily because he partook in them regularly, but through his reading he did learn a number of things, and often would try things just to have the initial experience. The item that was foremost in Erestor’s mind seemed somewhat inappropriate dinner conversation, and yet, he did want to ask the question.

“Did you masturbate when I left you in the waterfall earlier?”

Glorfindel had been about to put a spoonful of stew into his mouth. The utensil was placed back into the bowl as he stared at Erestor. “Are you trying to make me choke on my food?”

“Certainly not. I waited until you were done chewing to ask.”

There was a look on Glorfindel’s face that Erestor could not quite figure out. A moment later, Glorfindel took a hesitant bite of bread, but continued to stare at Erestor, who continued to stare at him. Glorfindel swallowed and lifted up the spoon again. He ate the stew, and then pointed the spoon at Erestor. “Were you serious?”

Erestor nodded.

Glorfindel chewed at his lip. “Damn. I did tell you that you could ask me anything.”

Erestor shrugged. “Nevermind.”

With a groan, Glorfindel tilted his head back. “I thought we were done with the neverminding.”

“It is fine,” assured Erestor. “How is the weather?” he asked instead. “Were you out at all when you were up there?”

Glorfindel emitted a noise that was not quite a growl and not quite a sigh. “Yes.”

“Was it nice?”

“No—I mean, yes, but—the yes was not about the weather,” grumbled Glorfindel. The blush from earlier was creeping beyond his collar and heating his cheeks.

“So, yes, you masturbated, but no, it was not nice?” 

“No! I—“ Glorfindel set the food aside so that he could properly cover his face with his hands. “It was just how it usually is, Erestor.”

“So is it usually nice or not?”

Glorfindel collected himself for a moment before he lowered his hands and answered. “It is probably very similar to whatever you experience when you masturbate.”

“I do not masturbate.”

There was laughter, then an uncomfortable chuckle, and then a cough. “So... you do not do it often, or you—“

“Never.”

“Ever?”

“Why else do you think I would ask?”

Glorfindel rubbed his forehead with one hand. “Oh boy.”

“You know, I could always demonstrate braiding to you so that you can learn how to do it, and maybe you could show me how you masturbate, and then I would understand better.” With his supper now finished, Erestor waited patiently for an answer to his proposal. When he realized that Glorfindel was left speechless, he piped up with, “We can talk about something else. I am not really that interested in it. It was just a bit of curiosity.”

“You could always try it yourself,” suggested Glorfindel without making eye contact.

“I think I would prefer sexual experiences if there is a partner involved.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Glorfindel. “You may still find some times when you just need to... shit.” Glorfindel yanked a pillow from the bed and held it in his lap. Erestor realized that his companion had yet to stop blushing. “Sometimes you see something or... something just happens and not even archery can take care of it.”

“Archery?”

“My father once told me the best way to deal with... the issue... is to think about archery instead.”

Erestor nodded slightly, but then asked, “You think about archery when you masturbate?”

“No!” Glorfindel continued to look at the ceiling as he talked. “If you need to masturbate and you cannot masturbate, then you think of archery.”

“Masturbation sounds like something someone would want to do, not something they would need to do,” remarked Erestor.

“How?” Glorfindel finally burst out. “How have you never masturbated before?”

“It just sounds really dirty. I mean, no one uses the word in polite conversation, and no one ever makes it sound like a lovely thing to do. When someone is with a partner, even if they only mean they are fucking or sodomizing the other, they will say they are ‘making love’ or ‘having intercourse’ or ‘being intimate’. There is nothing to say for masturbation that makes it sound better – there are a fair number of things I have heard or read that make it sound worse,” said Erestor. 

Glorfindel had begun to shake his head midway through Erestor’s explanation and continued as he spoke. “You are something else.”

“Thank you. I will pretend that is a compliment even if it was not.” Erestor arranged his empty bowl and plate on the tray the food had arrived on. “Out of curiosity, if you are not thinking of archery when you masturbate, what are you thinking of?”

With a little whine, Glorfindel begged, “Can you please stop using that word?”

“Why?” Erestor looked truly offended. “It is only a word.”

“It sounds abhorrent. I have never heard it said so many times in such a short span.”

Erestor studied Glorfindel. There was still no eye contact from the older Elf. “Well, now you can understand why I have not engaged in such an act. My mother always said one should never do things they cannot admit to.”

“So you want me to stop masturbating?” questioned Glorfindel with uneasy laughter.

Erestor shrugged. “It does not bother me, but it seems to bother you.”

The familiar sound of someone on the stairs alerted them that it was time to clean up the dishes from dinner. Erestor motioned to Glorfindel that he should finish his food, but Glorfindel shook his head. “Lost my appetite,” he said as he tossed the half full bowl onto the tray.

Erestor cleaned up the rest of the items and took the tray to the door. The guard who retrieved the tray seemed unconcerned that Erestor might try to escape in comparison to the guards from a few hours prior. She even joked a little with Erestor before she locked the cell again.

“Alright.” Erestor approached the mattress again but did not sit down yet. “I do not know about you, but I slept horribly over the last few days. What say you to turning in now so that we can get an early start on your idea with the book?”

“Shit... you still want to try to do that?” Glorfindel was chewing his lip again. “I mean... Erestor, the more I learn about you, the more I think this might be a bad idea.”

“How else am I going to get out of here?” Erestor wondered.

Glorfindel reached over to grasp the lit candelabrum nearby and he held it up over his head in Erestor’s direction. “Burn the book.”

Erestor walked around the mattress and knelt down, and finally he managed to catch Glorfindel’s gaze again. “The more you learn about me, the more you should realize how tenacious I am.” Erestor’s hand shot out and tightly grasped Glorfindel’s wrist. “Do you want to know what I think?” he asked as he pulled Glorfindel’s arm down so that he could look at him over the dancing flames.

There was a little moan from Glorfindel. Erestor could only guess, from the resistance he received in forcing Glorfindel to lower his arm, that Glorfindel realized just how strong a librarian could be. Glorfindel swallowed and licked his lips. The pillow in his lap appeared to twitch. “Of course.”

“I think you had an expectation of how this was going to play out. I think now you are uncertain, and maybe even a little scared. I am willing to see this through and clear my name.” Erestor stretched his free hand and grasped the little red book. He tossed it onto the pillow, and Glorfindel looked down. “At this point, you have nothing to lose, captain. You have the book, and a means of destroying it. The decision is yours.”

Glorfindel picked up the small volume and lifted it up to read the title on the spine. His gaze slowly moved from the golden letters to the amber flames, and locked on the foggy eyes that were patiently staring at him. Erestor’s fingers were still wrapped around his wrist. Glorfindel held the book out to Erestor again. “We all have to face our fears sometime,” he whispered before he blew out the candles.

Erestor released his hold upon Glorfindel’s wrist. Provided with only the faint glow from Glorfindel, they could both still see the mark left from Erestor’s fingers. “Tomorrow,” he said before he tucked the book under his pillow.

“Tomorrow,” agreed Glorfindel. 

Erestor crawled into bed, robes and all. The word replayed over and over in his head as he tried to fall asleep. Tomorrow. Never had the word held such anticipation and anxiety for him before.


	11. Last Confession

“I have presents!” Arwen passed the small basket through the bars to Glorfindel and handed a linen satchel to Erestor. “Those are from my mother,” she told him as Erestor peered in and smiled. “She told father that he just had to let you have visitors, and he agreed.”

“I am going to owe your mother many favors when I get out of here,” Erestor teased.

“She just wants to finish reading the book.”

Erestor looked up from peering into the satchel. “The little red one that has me in all of this trouble?”

“The very same. We were swapping it back and forth – father caught the maid and I with it both times, but he stood the same chance of catching her instead,” explained Arwen. “Anyhow, if there is anything either of you need, I can just bring it down. No more sneaking around.”

“I think we are set here at the moment with our amenities,” said Erestor. “There is one other thing you might do for me.” He walked to the side of the mattress and set the satchel down near his pillow. He picked up a bowl and covered it with a saucer before he brought it back. “This is going to sound strange. I need you to take this to a nice place outside near a cave maybe, or at least with some rocks. Take a stick and move the saucer off and give it a minute or two.”

Arwen took a step away from the bars. “Is that the centipede.”

Erestor looked up slowly. In his mind, a dozen possibilities for what else he could tell her might be in the bowl came to mind. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the left without moving his head. “You told her about the centipede.”

“She asked me to tell her everything.”

Arwen whimpered a little but held out her hands. “I will see to it that he gets a nice new home.”

“Thank you.” Erestor began to pass the bowl forward, but brought it back and lifted the saucer slightly. “I am not going to miss you as much as you probably deserve, but I shall miss you more than I prefer to.”

Glorfindel leaned over and added, “Take care, Mister Creeper! It was a pleasure. In a creeper-y sort of way.”

Arwen took the bowl after it was covered again and giggled. “Creeper. You would name the centipede, Glorfindel. I will see you both tomorrow!” she promised as neither attempted to dispute her theory.

Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged looks as she disappeared out of their sight. “So.”

“So...”

Erestor looked at the small, covered basket that Glorfindel held. “Those must be the things you put aside.” Glorfindel nodded. “I have taffy. What do you have? Maybe we can trade.”

Glorfindel smirked. “I think what I have will be something we can share.”

“Good idea. We can share the taffy, too.” Erestor walked back to the mattress and sat down. “Two weeks ago, my routine would have suffered a mild case of hysteria at the idea of taffy eating before noon. And now, no routine, no guilt. I think these are strawberry, chocolate, and honey flavored.” He opened the satchel as wide as he could and offered it to Glorfindel for perusal.

Glorfindel reached in and took one without looking to see what kind it was, but he set it aside. Erestor frowned. The bowl he had coaxed Creeper into was from his own finished porridge, but Glorfindel’s was still sitting on the tray, untouched, and probably cold. “Erestor, we should talk about a few things.”

“That sounds serious.” Erestor readjusted so that he was facing Glorfindel as he unwrapped the paper from one of the candies. Instead of putting it in his mouth, he started to press it flat with the tips of his fingers.

“I think we should talk about the letters, and the book, and... what are you doing?” Glorfindel sank down to join Erestor on the mattress. “Are you playing with your food?”

“See, you answered your own question.” Erestor was stretching the taffy into a long, thin strip. “Do you want to discuss them in that order?”

“Not necessarily,” admitted Glorfindel. “I just think… are you going to eat that?”

“Eventually.” Erestor let out one of his rare chuckles. “This really bothers you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I am watching a grown man who concerns himself with dressing so properly so that only his face and sometimes hands show, playing with his food.” Glorfindel watched as Erestor meticulously made sure the candy was the same thickness throughout. “It should bother you, too.”

“Not really.” Erestor twisted one end a few times until it all looked like a party ribbon, and then he began to nibble it from one end to the other. “Definitely honey flavored. You should try it.”

Glorfindel shook his head. “Maybe later. Right now, I feel that I should make a confession to you.”

Erestor sat up straighter, still eating the candy. “Oh?”

“About the book. There is a reason I am so unashamed of it.”

Erestor looked even more interested. “Did you write it?”

Glorfindel shook his head. “No. But I know what everything in the book is because I have experience with everything in that book.” He chewed at his lip and then he sighed. “I want to tell you a little bit about who I was before. About things you will never read in a biography.”

Erestor tilted his head to the side and reached into the satchel for another piece of taffy. “You only have to tell me if you want to. I understand that your past is, indeed, your past.”

“I think it will help you better understand me.” He took a deep breath. “I have to explain some early events for you to see how I got to this point. When I was crossing the Helcaraxe, one of my sisters and her husband and their daughter were also making that journey. My brother-in-law and my niece survived; my sister did not. My brother-in-law made sure I made it safely to Middle-earth when we lost my sister. I stayed with them, with my brother-in-law and niece, right to the end.

“My brother-in-law somehow managed to press on without his wife. I could tell how devastated he was, and I made sure he knew that I would help in whatever way I could. It started with late-night talks and sparring and anything that kept his mind off of things. It progressed to taking me to bed with him, until the day we died.” Glorfindel licked his lips and broke eye contact. “When he was reborn, he was reunited with my sister, I am told it was joyful. When I was returned to life, it made me so happy to know that they were with each other again. I spoke with my brother-in-law only once about what happened in Nevrast and later in Gondolin, and we left it in the past, not forgotten, but not to be admitted, not publicly, not where it could cause scandal for either of us. My sister should never need to know.”

“Do you wish you could be with him?” asked Erestor. He had stretched out another piece of taffy, but was more concerned with Glorfindel at the moment.

“No. It was companionship. It was understanding. It was never love,” Glorfindel said assuredly, and there was no longing in his voice. There was, however, apprehension. “I hope you do not think less of me for it. I was young at the time, and he was in need of comfort. That comfort led to a lot of creative things. Some of them are in that book, and everything in that book is something I have done at some point.”

“Good. Your expertise will be appreciated.” Erestor furrowed his brow. “Since you know all of that, you could have just explained to Lord Elrond that everything in that book is possible and safe and fine.”

“Well, possible, yes. Safe, eh, sometimes.” Glorfindel picked up the piece of candy he had taken earlier but did not open it. “If I told Elrond all of that, I would have to admit something about my past, or, I would have to lie about it. I prefer not to do either. I have not even been here a full year yet; revealing something like I just told you could have a devastating impact on my life here. I also think Lord Elrond would want names and dates and a written proclamation and my first born child.”

“True. He might settle for the second born.” Erestor crumbled up the little papers from the candy and stuck them back into the satchel and stretched his arms. “The letters... I think I created more questions than I answered with those. My deepest apologies.”

“There is only question I care to know the answer to.” Glorfindel pulled the stack of letter out from within his own pillowcase and sorted through them to find the last one. Erestor’s hand was no longer reaching for taffy as he worried the pendant with his fingers, which had miraculously remained unsticky due to many years of deconstructing taffy before eating it. “Are you still willing to try?” Glorfindel asked uncertainly.

“I play with my food and I do not know how to masturbate. Are you still willing to try?” Erestor countered.

“Do you play with all of your food, or just the taffy?”

“Mostly taffy.”

“What else, if not only taffy?”

Erestor smirked. “I draw pictures on my toast with honey and I wait for the lines to run together before I will eat it.”

“Anything else?”

“With food? No. Other quirky things, yes.”

“I can live with the rest of it,” conceded Glorfindel.

“In that case, I have a question for you.” Erestor stood up off of the mattress and circled around. “Now that you have revealed your past experience, it makes me wonder something. Would you kneel for me, please?”

Glorfindel did so without a moment’s hesitation. “That was quick,” Erestor observed. “Now, from what I recall from the book, there are two main characters. Fanmir, the blacksmith with the creative streak that allows him to come up with a variety of interesting devices, and Arborn, the stable hand who all too willingly stays late in the barn to wait for Fanmir to arrive.”

“Good memory,” complimented Glorfindel as he stayed knelt on the mattress, eyes locked on Erestor as he circled. “I would suggest each of us assume one of the roles – of course, neither of us is exactly like either of the characters in the book.”

“I noticed that. But I think we can safely say that Fanmir is more dominant, and Arborn is... well, he is very passionate.” Erestor approached the edge of the bed and sat down on the floor so that he was essentially looking up at Glofindel. “Be completely honest. Would you prefer an encounter of this sort, to have the control over the situation, or...” Erestor stood and stepped up onto the mattress so that he towered over Glorfindel, “...would you prefer this?” he asked as he ran a hand through Glorfindel’s blond locks. The weighted eyelids and expression gave Erestor his answer before the moan escaped Glorfindel. “I think we are off to a perfect start,” decided Erestor as he gave a little tug on the fistful of hair he held.


	12. If Tomorrow Never Comes

Erestor felt Glorfindel tremble, and he slid his hand away. “Now that we have settled that detail, I suppose we need to plan this out. It would be a little difficult to explain if they brought lunch and I had to ask them to come back later because you were a little tied up.” He stooped down and picked up the basket to look through the contents. “You did put some rope in here, I hope.”

“I wish I had.” Glorfindel lowered himself down into a seated position on the mattress. “I doubt that would have mattered. There is no bed frame or other furniture to use for—“ He paused abruptly as Erestor hooked a hand under his arm and pulled him up. A moment later, he was standing in front of the bars. “What are—“ 

With his hand gripped around Glorfindel’s wrist, Erestor lifted it up to see how far up he could stretch. Most of the iron bars ran from the ceiling to the floor, but there were four bars, two at the top and two at the bottom, that ran perpendicular. Glorfindel tilted his head up and saw that his wrist was very close to the lower of the top two bars. Erestor was not content, and pulled up, which made Glorfindel have to rise up on the tips of his toes. With one wrist barely touching the top bar, Erestor took hold of Glorfindel’s other wrist and stretched it up as well.

This meant that Erestor was now pressed against Glorfindel’s back, and while Erestor did not seem affected, Glorfindel closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose as he shuddered. Erestor began to speak without letting go. “The most difficult part of all of this is going to be the timing. We need to make sure no one is going to interrupt us. It seems that Arwen usually stops in the morning, and there is breakfast, so that is no good. When they pick up breakfast that would give us a little time, but lunch is not that far off. After lunch, we would have a longer span of time, and then they will have us bathe, and then dinner. I think the afternoon is going to be the best time. We would have a longer time in the evening, but we do need to sleep, and some of these things could cause a fair amount of sweat, so we might appreciate the chance to wash up before bed.”

The sound of the door caused Glorfindel to snap his head up and attempt to step back, but Erestor held him firm. “Erestor, please,” he said as softly as possible. Feet leisurely strolled down the stairs and the clinking of the keys was heard coming closer. Glorfindel tried again to free himself. “Erestor...” 

“Oh, modesty, quite right.” Erestor let go and stepped back just in the nick of time as the guard reached the point of being able to see into the cell. “Good day to you. Allow me to fetch the tray for you, lieutenant. I regret to inform you that the porridge was not to Glorfindel’s liking. Perhaps, if it is at all feasible, you might bring lunch early – not on my account, of course, but it would be a terrible thing to upset your superior. Eventually he will be back to ordering you around again, and it would be most unfortunate if your slight caused him to reassign you to stable duties.” During his monologue, Erestor collected up the dishes and placed them on the tray so that he was prepared to hand it to the guard when the door was unlocked.

The guard merely sighed, but then took a look at Glorfindel and seemed to mull it over. “I will see what I can do,” he answered before he locked the cell again and left.

Erestor turned on his heel and folded his hands. The heavy fabric draped over them as he regarded Glorfindel. “An early lunch will allow us more time this afternoon to start the project. Given that there were about a dozen different things, we should be able to finish in about two weeks if we schedule one or more per afternoon.”

“Oh. You want to go through it all as fast as possible?” asked Glorfindel.

“I would like to get out of here as quickly as possible,” Erestor said.

Glorfindel’s bottom teeth scraped along his upper lip as he engaged in his nervous habit again. “We should make a list, then, so that we do not forget anything.”

“I already have.” Erestor walked calmly to a spot where all of the paper, letters, and writing supplies were neatly organized. He returned with a sheet that featured two lists. “I went through the book again while you were asleep and listed all of the items that might have caused our dear lord panic if he knew his daughter was reading about them. Some of them hardly seem scandalous, but it might help us to develop a greater trust with one another if we were to engage in these activities first. The second list would include all of the activities that might require us to be more familiar with each other before we attempt them next week.”

“And you think that a mere week will give us all the time we need before we are ready to move to that level?” questioned Glorfindel.

Erestor looked up from the list slowly, and he pretended not to notice the shiver in Glorfindel’s spine that shook his shoulders. “Be honest,” said Erestor as he took very slow and calculating steps closer. He lowered his arm and the page slipped from his fingers. Glorfindel took a step back and hit the steel bars. Erestor did not slow his approach and Glorfindel licked his lips. He closed his eyes as Erestor curled his fingers around Glorfindel’s wrists and lifted them up to press them against the chilled metal as he had earlier. Erestor leaned in to whisper, “Are you ready for me to strip you down, bind you to these bars, and tear into your skin with the lash? Do you want me, right now, to hear your screams, your pleas, not for me to stop, but begging me for more?”

Glorfindel did not open his eyes as he nodded. “I would let you do all that and more,” he whispered back. 

“I know.” Erestor released Glorfindel’s wrists but did not move away or speak any louder. “You are so needful and wanting. I still have no idea what you see in me,” he reprimanded. 

“It has nothing to do with seeing as much as it has to do with feeling. I just know that I need you.” Glorfindel was clinging to the upper bars, arms still over his head. He finally opened his eyes and said, “You are going to break me before we even start.”

“Going to?” Erestor placed his hands on Glorfindel’s shoulders and pushed him onto his knees without needing to ask. “I need not break you. You are more than willing.” He stroked his fingertips lightly through Glorfindel’s hair. “I am the one who needs to be handled gently,” he said before he walked away to pick up the fallen sheet of paper.

“Handled gently?” Glorfindel groaned and rubbed his face. “You are such a tease...”

“You just need to think about archery more,” advised Erestor as he returned with the lists. He sat down beside Glorfindel. “You should look over this and see if I have anything in the wrong column.”

Glorfindel slid down to sit on the ground. “Can you read it to me?” he asked as he rubbed his temples. “Just the second list.”

“Certainly.” Erestor cleared his throat. “In the nineteenth chapter, there was a creative use of mirrors. That seemed tame, but I think Lord Elrond would have issue with how much things were described. After that, there were several instances of whipping after Arborn accused Fanmir of holding back his strength when he was striking with his hand. Anything that dealt with sticking things into places they do not normally go I listed as well. Anything with fire, anything with what I would consider higher than acceptable degrees of pain. Did I miss anything?” He glanced over and sighed. “Is archery not working?”

“Archery is never going to work again,” snapped back Glorfindel a little harsher than he intended.

“You could think about wrestling.”

“Worse, Erestor. Much worse.”

Erestor frowned. “Wrestling is much more brutal, and the rules are far more complex than archery.”

“Wrestling is two sweaty, naked, grunting men with their hands all over each other. Thinking about wrestling is not going to help me get rid of my erection.”

“And archery is aim for the little hole. How is that better?”

“Target,” corrected Glorfindel. “Aim for the target.”

“Fine, whatever. It still seems counterproductive to the purpose for which you intend to use it. Do you watch archers?” pressed Erestor. “They sweat, too. Tight clothing, taught muscles— what are you looking at?”

Glorfindel had his head tilted downwards, his gaze on Erestor’s lap. “How do you manage to talk about these things without getting aroused? Are you sure you are as young as you claim to be?”

Without answering the question, Erestor ran a finger down the first list. “Do you think we should stick with the order in the book, or should we just check things off as we do them?”

“Let me see the paper.” Glorfindel looked it over. “I really have no particular preference, but I think if we started with something like this one… or this one… this one we should wait a little for…”

“I expected you to advocate for that one first,” admitted Erestor.

“Not if you need me to be gentle with you,” shot back Glorfindel.

“That makes no sense. Of all of these things… that is something that parents use all the time to discipline children. It should be the easiest to take care of.”

Glorfindel let out a frustrated noise and gave the paper back to Erestor. “This is not going to work.”

“Oh.” Erestor sat still for a moment and then stood up. “I understand,” he said quietly before he began to walk away.

Glorfindel bowed his head. He sighed before he looked up again. “That is all?” Erestor turned back around. “You are just going to walk away? Not even try to fight for it?”

“You are really confusing me,” stated Erestor. “You just told me to go.”

“No, I said this was not going to work. I am irritated. I feel like... like I am either a bother, or just a prop in whatever it is you are proving to Lord Elrond. I was really hoping we could use this as an opportunity to discover a little about each other instead of rushing through like it is a task that needs to be completed.”

Erestor waited until Glorfindel finished, standing still and silent. His eyes looked about nervously, but his voice was calm. “I am afraid,” he said.

“Of the things on that list? Of me?”

“Of myself.”

Glorfindel stood back up. “Why? Are you... afraid you might enjoy what we do? Or, that it would be known once you write the guide or whatever you want to call it that you had engaged in these activities?”

One hand held the sheet of paper, while the other worried the pendant. “I have lost everyone I was ever close to. The emotional pain was so great, and I do not want to go through that again. Your position requires you to face dangers on a daily basis. In the short time I have been alive, Imladris has been through four other guard captains.” Erestor let go of the silver chain and began to fold the paper that was in his hands. “Two were killed, one lost a leg, and another was never heard from again.”

“You know, we are not very different in that respect. I lost everything in Gondolin. When I came back in Valinor, it was very hard for me to reforge friendships. I tried hard to begin new ones, but all I am ever seen as is ‘The Balrog Slayer’. I just wanted to be Glorfindel. That was why it was so easy for me to agree to returning to Middle-earth. I had hoped that here, there might be some people who would just treat me as another person. I was actually sort of glad that Lord Elrond initially imprisoned me. When I arrived and he just arbitrarily appointed me as his guard captain, I nearly left. Luckily, I met you that same day, and so, I stayed.” Glorfindel closed the distance between them. “I could worry about being killed again and losing everything every day, like I had been. Or, I could find one person who would give me joy and peace and I could do everything in my power to make sure we stayed together.”

“How do you know we would not grow to hate each other?”

Glorfindel reached out and took the paper away from Erestor without resistance. “Would you miss me again if I called for the guard and asked to leave?”

“Probably.”

Glorfindel smirked and lifted a brow. “Probably?”

Erestor hugged his arms around himself. “Fine. I would miss you.”

“Good. Because I would miss you, too. Clearly. I came back, remember? I am willing to take a chance on –us-. Maybe it ends up the best thing either of us ever have. Maybe we do end up loathing each other. But neither of us will know until we try. You said you were willing to try. That is all I ask.” Glorfindel crumbled the sheet in his hand. “We need to slow down and we need to enjoy this for what it can be. It can be a chance for us to have time together, regardless of anything else. For me, this is time that I can live. My first life, I lived for other people, and I want to live for myself this time. For you, maybe you can learn to let your guard down. There is nothing about you that is going to make me walk away—unless you kill my horse or something stupid like that. But I already know you would not do anything of that sort. I already...” Glorfindel huffed and threw the crumpled list across the room. “Now I am the one who is afraid. I fear if I say certain things, it will chase you further away.”

Erestor was back to twisting the chain around his fingers. “I think the guard locked the door, so I would not get too far.”

Glorfindel reached up to pull Erestor’s hands down so that he could hold them. “I love your sarcastic humor and your quick wit. I love your intelligence and I am growing to love your unique mannerisms. To say I love you feels premature, and much too romantic for your liking, but my soul has been singing since I met you. You can roll your eyes at that and it will not offend me,” he added, but all Erestor did was squeeze Glorfindel’s hands as he had the day that they were judged by Lord Elrond. “We could worry about everything and anything that could ever happen between this day and end of time. Or, we could take this chance, this extremely rare opportunity we have been given, to enjoy whatever time Eru grants us together. If tomorrow never comes, at least we will have today.”

“I just think you are going to be disappointed with me in the long run.”

There was a little tug on Erestor’s hands before Glorfindel said, “Will you please stop? You keep talking down about yourself for no good reason! Do you... you do know why I stayed back in the waterfall yesterday, right?”

“We already spoke of your masturbatory needs,” confirmed Erestor. “You like to think about sex and you needed to take care of that.”

“I was thinking about –you-. I was thinking about what I wanted you to do to me, things that would feel so good.” Glorfindel dared to step closer so that he could rest his chin over Erestor’s shoulder. “You asked me to wash your back.”

“I remember that.” Erestor repositioned his hands, one arm to his side, and the other around Glorfindel to awkwardly pat his back and run his fingers through his hair. 

Glorfindel closed his eyes and moaned. “I wanted to lick the droplets of water off of your skin. I wanted you to turn around and grab the soap away from me. Wanted you to shove me down on my hands and knees,” he growled. “Soap me up. Tease me a little. Thrust in. Take me right there. Fuck me in the waterfall. Make me scream for you.” He lifted his leg to rub his knee against something almost concealed behind the layers of the robes. “Finally...”

Erestor made a hasty retreat and cleared his throat. “Yes, well...” He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “We should really know each other a little better first.”

“I just thought you should...” Glorfindel glanced down and frowned. “Wait, no, no, get that back here,” he insisted when he realized that Erestor no longer showed any physical signs of being aroused.

“Why? It is—“ Erestor cut himself off. “Where did that list go,” he mumbled to himself as he sought to find it.

“What? What is it?” insisted Glorfindel. “Please stop cutting yourself off and withholding things from me.”

Erestor sighed. “It is sort of disgusting.”

“What? Erestor, you need to be a little more specific,” Glorfindel insisted.

The paper was smoothed out again despite its many creases and folds. “That.” He made a noncommittal motion near his own pelvis. Despite his obvious discomfort, he managed to keep from blushing.

“I have no idea what you have been reading, but there is nothing wrong with lust. You read all of Pengolodh’s garbage,” guessed Glorfindel as he pointed an accusatory finger at Erestor. “Pengolodh might have been brilliant with languages, but some of his histories are full of fiction, and his writings on home and family life are quite narrow-minded. You should realize that half of what he wrote was stuff he just made up because it was what he personally believes, not because that was how we actually lived. Maybe more than half of it is made up. The point is, Pengolodh probably inspired far too many with his ideas of what the laws and customs of Elves are, and the literary world has been the worse for it.”

“I am not sure I know who that is,” admitted Erestor. “In all honesty, you seem to have the same misconception most people do about librarians. I do not read everything I come across. I find things, and most of what I find is information for other people. Unlike the majority of the population, I know how to use an index.”

“Then I apologize for stereotyping you,” Glorfindel said. “Now, before we get off the topic, what is it that is so revolting to you?”

Erestor scratched just above his right brow and then let out a yawn. “A particular part of one’s anatomy.”

It took Glorfindel a moment of thought before he read the riddle. “You think penises are disgusting?”

“Yes,” replied Erestor without hesitation. “They just hang there, and then they do that weird thing when they get aroused. They look very offensive either way.”

“But you do like men?” asked Glorfindel, sounding a bit confused.

“It would be a lot easier if they did not have… those things.”

Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest. “I just want to clarify. You no problem with saying the word masturbate, but you have trouble with... penis,” he finished slowly when he watched Erestor cover his ears for a moment. “So you hate your own... thing?”

“I try not to make eye contact,” replied Erestor.

“How do you feel about female... alright then,” said Glorfindel as Erestor scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Um... so, sex might be a little difficult, then.”

“I really tried to warn you.”

Glorfindel chewed at his lip for a moment before he asked, “What about kissing?”

“What about it?

“Are you against the idea of lips? Do tongues annoy, upset, or otherwise cause issue for you?”

Erestor licked his own lips. “No, I find myself quite unopinionated on the topic.”

“Have you ever been kissed?” asked Glorfindel.

“Of course,” answered Erestor quickly.

“By someone other than your parents?” Glorfindel approached again when Erestor did not answer. “I never really kissed anyone much in the old life. We had very limited time for things, and that always seemed like something intimate anyhow. Like something that lovers do, but not something done when all you have is ten minutes in a weapons shed.”

“Makes sense,” agreed Erestor.

Glorfindel stood in front of Erestor again, but this time gave him a little more space. “Anyhow, been a long time since I did, and never in this life. I always kind of wondered what it might be like, to have someone I could spend time kissing.” He lifted a hand slowly and used a single finger to trace along the contours of Erestor’s lips. “I have a feeling you would dominate not just our lovemaking, but our kisses as well.”

“Would you like that?” asked Erestor as Glorfindel let his finger slip away. He watched Glorfindel walk away from him to lounge on the mattress.

“One way to find out,” answered Glorfindel as he looked up invitingly.


	13. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, darlings! Thanks & huggles again for reading & extra thanks and snuggles to those who have been reviewing. I have been sitting on this chapter since Tuesday - it felt like the muses were playing an April Fool's joke on me for the way it all followed through. Revisiting it today, well, sometimes you just have to let the muses go where they want to and trust that it'll all make sense in the end.
> 
> If there is an end. So much for this thing being 'about ten chapters or so'. Not that I've heard complaints about that. ^_^

Erestor circled twice around the mattress slowly before he took a deep breath and knelt down on what had become ‘his’ side. Glorfindel was propped up on an elbow, hand under his chin, but otherwise was sprawled beside him. “You do not have to,” emphasized Glorfindel as Erestor meticulously straightened his robes. “Or we could wait.”

“Do you promise not to laugh at me?”

“Why would I laugh? For all I know, you might laugh at me,” countered Glorfindel.

“I would never laugh at you. At least, not unless you intended to say or do something funny.” Erestor reached out and traced a finger over Glorfindel’s lips as had been done to him earlier. “Hmm.” He withdrew his hand.

“Hmm?” Glorfindel smiled up at him.

“I guess I expected them to be rougher for some reason.”

Glorfindel continued to smile as he closed his eyes. “Is that good or bad?” His answer came in the form of lips pressed against his, and Glorfindel reached his free arm out and gripped Erestor’s thigh, which brought the kiss to a premature end as Erestor flinched and looked down. “Sorry,” replied Glorfindel, his cheeks burning.

Erestor sat down and readjusted his robes again. “Is that typical?”

“Is... is what typical?” floundered Glorfindel.

Without another word, Erestor reached out and gripped Glorfindel’s thigh in a way that made him yelp. “That.”

“Well, no!” Glorfindel cringed and rubbed his leg. “Son of a-- why did you do that?” he growled.

“You did it first,” Erestor reminded him.

“No. No. I know I did not grab you that hard,” grumbled Glorfindel. “Touching is part of making out,” he said in a very matter-of-fact tone when he finally looked up into Erestor’s eyes again. “Touching and caressing, not digging your claws into my leg.”

“Claws?” Erestor looked unamused.

Glorfindel continued to rub his thigh. “It certainly felt like claws. Talons, even.”

“I am sure it barely left a mark. Besides, are you going to fuss like this when we start working through the list? It will be very unappealing if you start crying when I draw blood.”

For a moment, Glorfindel looked upon Erestor with his eyes narrowed. He frowned, and Erestor frowned back, and then Glorfindel’s hand shot out and took a firm grip on Erestor’s thigh. He dug his nails in, fingers curled. Glorfindel gritted his teeth, and Erestor felt the additional pressure. “How are you not in pain?” scolded Glorfindel when he pulled his hand back, for Erestor had given no sign of reaction other than to tilt his head down as if he was examining something of fascinating interest.

“That was excessive,” scolded Erestor, but his voice was even. “I thought about slapping you, but I think you might have liked that.”

“You are so puzzling.”

“So are you.”

Glorfindel watched Erestor smooth out his robes again. “Sorry. Did I hurt you? I did not mean to. You just keep frustrating me.”

“And you keep looking at me like I have a second head growing out of my chest.”

“Excuse me?”

“ ‘Touching is part of making out’,” he repeated in a voice that mimicked Glorfindel’s. “How am I supposed to know that?”

“Because you know all about masturbating,” shot back Glorfindel.

“Noooo, I dooo noooot.” Erestor realized he had leaned forward and slouched a little, and that he was purposely drawing out his vowels in a most unseemly manner, so he had the decency to sit up straight and compose himself before he continued. He folded his hands and tilted his head up. “Why would you think that?”

“You said the word about two hundred times in an hour,” snarked back Glorfindel. He was not so inclined to act like an adult as he spied the bag of candy, grabbed a piece, and bounced it off of Erestor’s nose. He dodged and rolled onto his back as Erestor, while keeping his regal posture, threw it back. “Sure, you never did it, but you keep on talking about it.”

“You are exaggerating,” declared Erestor. “It was uttered perhaps a dozen times, and when you requested I stop, I most certainly spoke of it less and then discarded the topic altogether. I asked you about it so you could tell me about it, because sometimes, you cannot learn everything from a book!”

Glorfindel groaned and rubbed his head. “So now you are going to tell me you have no idea how to kiss, either?”

“Actually, I already informed you of that,” reminded Erestor. “For someone who has been assigned to the well-being of everyone in Imladris, my confidence in you is waning. Your short-term memory is lacking, and by lacking, I suppose nonexistent may well be a better word for it. If you cannot recall the answers to simple questions like this, how exactly is anyone supposed to trust you in keeping Imladris safe?”

“Well, you... you... fuck you.” Glorfindel yanked one of the blankets up and drew it over himself, but it was done so quickly it whipped past most of his body and was now covering his head and his shoulder. 

Erestor stared down at Glorfindel for a little while, and then he stood up and walked the short distance until he was in the corner of the cell, where he sat down, and with a rather melancholy look on his face, sat and stared at the wall. He continued this behavior even as Glorfindel sighed and threw the blanket off and sat up to fight with the static that played through the waves of his hair. 

The blond looked across the cell into the dark corner. “Are you just going to sit there and sulk?”

“I am not sulking,” came the reply.

“Sure.” Glorfindel chewed at his lip until he drew blood. He flopped down on the mattress again, and they were silent and motionless until the sounds of someone opening the door were heard. Glorfindel sat up; Erestor remained in his corner. When Arwen appeared, holding a small package, Glorfindel stood and slowly made his way to the door. By way of greeting, he forced a smile, but then said, “Arwen, would you mind retrieving one of the guards? Ask him to bring the keys, please.”

Arwen looked uncertain, but she nodded as she passed the package through the bars. “Mother thought you might enjoy some of the nuts we roasted last night. They are not warm, but they are still very good.”

Glorfindel turned around and tossed the package onto the bed once Arwen was gone. “I am leaving.”

“I know,” came the answer from the darkness.

There seemed to be more that Glorfindel wanted to say, but his attention was caught by the sound of the keys jingling on the hip of the guard who curiously followed Arwen down the stairway. “I would like to attend to some business, umm, above ground,” stated Glorfindel.

“Oh. Of course.” The guard lifted the ring of keys and danced his fingers along the finely crafted pieces of metal until he found the one which fit the lock. Glorfindel was released, and the door was locked again. “Should we still bring lunch early?” he questioned.

Glorfindel looked over his shoulder, to the back of the cell, into the corner, where there was only darkness. Erestor had to be back there, but now that Glorfindel was out of the cell, his glow followed him and diminished as he stood near to the light from the lantern that Arwen held. “Ask him,” he directed.

From the cell, a voice clearly stated, “I am not hungry. You need not trouble yourself with lunch, or supper for that matter.”

Glorfindel looked like he might debate this order, but he gave the guard a nod and walked up the stairs before he had a chance to rethink his decision. Arwen was on his heels, and after he took a moment to make sure the door was secure, the guard followed.

“Did I say something wrong?” asked Arwen when they were in the main dungeon. The guard hesitated, but locked the door at the top of the steps.

“Are you free at the moment, Lady Arwen?” asked Glorfindel. He was back to chewing his lip.

Arwen nodded.

“Where is your mother this time of day?” he asked.

“She is in the library,” said Arwen. “She has taken her duties as Erestor’s substitute very seriously. Last night my father even had to go and retrieve her. She nearly forgot about supper.”

“Would you walk with me, please?” Glorfindel acknowledged the guards before he went with Arwen up the stairs that led them through a corridor and out into the main foyer. “Tell me; what are your thoughts on Erestor. The first thing that comes to mind.”

“About Erestor? Well, that he is brilliant,” answered Arwen as she followed Glorfindel across the hall to a flight of stairs which took them up to the next floor. There were wide balconies at each level which allowed access to the rooms on that floor, but also allowed for residents and visitors to admire the architecture of the main hall and the statues erected within from every angle. Some children were taking a break from their lessons and were folding paper birds which they were then attempting to fly from one side of the balcony across the hall to the other, with varying degrees of success.

“I think there is no denying he is intelligent,” agreed Glorfindel. “Stupid, but intelligent,” he added, which caused Arwen to tilt her head in thought. “Is there nothing more?”

“I would say he is very fair and well-informed,” she added. “Always proper and well-groomed. Quiet. And very sad, though understandably so.”

“Did something tragic befall him?”

“Well, of course,” began Arwen, but she froze suddenly, and Glorfindel had to double back to where she stood. “I forget you have only been here a short time, for I feel as if you were always meant to be here, and were here always,” she apologized.

“What happened?” asked Glorfindel.

Arwen shook her head. “No one talks about it anymore.”

“I think I have a right to know what happened,” he said. His voice was louder, and Arwen started to wring her hands and shook her head. “Fine. I know where I can go to get an answer,” he declared, and he set off again in the direction of the library.

When Arwen realized where he intended to go, she hurried to catch up. “Please, Glorfindel. Some things are best left in the past. That is what father always says.”

“And I say we must know the past in order to move forward.” He opened one of the heavy doors and stepped inside. 

\+ * + * +

Fourteen hours later, Glorfindel was let back into the cell by the guard. He carried with him a wicker basket covered with a cloth, which he set down beside the bed as he crossed the distance to the corner where he knew he would find Erestor. As sure as the sun, Erestor was still in the same spot, though now his head was bowed and his arms were wrapped around his legs. Glorfindel sat down in front of Erestor and rested a hand on Erestor’s knee. Erestor lifted his head slowly. In the soft glow of light, it was evident that he had been crying for some time. Glorfindel made no move to wipe Erestor’s cheeks, but he did lean forward and kissed tears from Erestor’s lips without invitation, though Erestor did not reciprocate. “Celebrian told me everything,” explained Glorfindel.

“You should not have come back.”

“You should not try so hard to push me away.” Glorfindel tried another kiss, though the reaction was the same. “Erestor. Look at me.” It took a moment, but Erestor focused on Glorfindel. “If you want me to go, tell me to go. Tell me clearly and directly that you want me to leave you alone. But you do not want that, do you?” he added.

Erestor sniffled. “You should go.”

“Tell me to go. Send me away.”

Tears welled up in Erestor’s eyes. “You should just leave.”

“What do you want, Erestor?” Glorfindel took hold of Erestor’s hands and held them tightly. “Do you want to stay here by yourself, alone? Do you really want to stay lonely forever? Or do you want someone to be with you, to be there for you? Do you want to feel love again, the sort of love you knew when your parents were here, and more, so much more. Let me show you how—“ Glorfindel closed his eyes as he felt tears stinging them. “Erestor, I do not want to be alone anymore, and I do not think you want to be, either. What harm is there in trying? If we fail, we are no worse than we are now,” he rambled, but he was silenced suddenly as Erestor covered his hand over Glorfindel’s lips.

“I do not want to hurt you.” Erestor lowered his hand.

“Not being with you hurts me,” said Glorfindel. “I hated being away from you today – and I suspect our separation is what upset you as well.”

Erestor nodded and bowed his head down again.

“Come on. This has not been a good day,” said Glorfindel. “I think we should sleep and when we wake up, we can start fresh.”

“Are you sure? You still have a chance to leave.”

“You do not really want me to go, and I do not want to go,” Glorfindel said. “We need to be honest with each other. I have been trying to be honest with you. I do not want to have to go to other people to find out what is going on or how you feel. So be honest with me, Erestor. Do you want me to stay, or go?”

“I am afraid to have you stay here.”

“But you want me to.”

There was barely a nod. “I want you with me,” admitted Erestor, and he looked ashamed to admit it.

“Oh, Erestor.” Glorfindel embraced Erestor tightly, and wept on his shoulder. “You have no idea how much that means to hear that. Finally. Finally.” He rested his cheek on Erestor’s shoulder and nuzzled at the high collar that hid Erestor’s neck from him. “I knew that. I knew that all this time. I could see it in your eyes and I felt it in my soul. I need you. I need you so badly.”

Erestor held Glorfindel and stroked his hair until they both stopped crying. “If you are set on staying, we should rest and talk in the morning.”

Glorfindel nodded in agreement, his nose nudging Erestor’s cheek. “I need you,” he whispered again before he kissed along the edge of Erestor’s ear. “I just want to make you happy.”

“I would remind you that you barely know me, despite your sudden acquisition of knowledge from Celebrian, but I have come to know that you are not a fan of logic,” said Erestor, which he punctuated with a yawn.

A little yawn answered back, and Glorfindel slowly stood up. He somehow had taken hold of Erestor’s hand, and pulled him up as well. “I died, and then, I came back. Logic and I more or less parted ways after that,” he said as they leaned against each other and walked the short distance to the bed. Glorfindel stooped down to toss the random items scattered on it off onto the ground while Erestor meticulously remade the bed and fluffed the pillows. He started to lift back a corner after Erestor crawled into bed, but he stopped. “Would you mind terribly if I slept without clothes on?”

Erestor had been stiffly staring up at the ceiling, and he turned his head now to regard Glorfindel without saying a word.

“I would not ask, but my shirt is wet with tears, and leather trousers are difficult to sleep in comfortably.”

Erestor looked back up to the ceiling. “It is not going to bother me,” he answered.

Glorfindel hurried to strip out of his clothes and join Erestor on the mattress. He moved a little closer than he had before, and leaned in to nuzzle at Erestor’s jaw. “Goodnight,” he offered.

Erestor turned his head to the side again and almost knocked their noses together. “Goodnight,” he repeated. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to kiss Glorfindel, but then he wiggled a hand out from under the covers and slapped Glorfindel’s cheek lightly before he gripped Glorfindel’s chin and turned it up so that Glofindel had no choice but to look at him. “Never say ‘fuck you’ to me again,” Erestor warned. Glorfindel swallowed hard, licked his lips, and gave a little nod. Erestor’s own tongue darted out between his lips for a moment, after which he pulled Glorfindel a little closer as he tilted his head down. 

For several moments, Glorfindel kneaded the blankets and furs with his fingers, and let out moans that were muffled as Erestor stole his breath. When Erestor moved away and loosened his grip, Glorfindel opened his eyes and appeared ready to continue. “For someone who does not know how to kiss, that was pretty convincing.”

“I reread part of the book while you were gone.” Erestor settled down again and turned his back to Glorfindel. “Goodnight,” he added before he closed his eyes.


	14. Self-Hatred

Erestor gently pawed at Glorfindel’s shoulder. When the blond did not awaken immediately, Erestor tapped his fingers more insistently. As Glorfindel began to stir, Erestor whispered, “I have a problem, and I need your help.”

“Wh’s wrong?” Glorfindel rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he sat up. He forced his half-squinted eyes open when he took note of Erestor’s shoulders, exposed though Erestor used his other hand to keep the thick fur throw pulled up to his chin. “Are you naked?” Glorfindel questioned.

“You became naked first.” Erestor flopped down onto his back and covered the bare skin.

“It was not a complaint,” said Glorfindel. He propped his head up with his hand and smirked. “Naked, but still wearing this thing,” he noted as he pinched one of the strings that kept the coif on Erestor’s head and began to pull it undone.

Erestor pushed Glorfindel’s hand away. “Help me, and I will explain that to you.”

Glorfindel reached in to fix the loop he had nearly untied. “How may I be of assistance?”

An unclothed arm protruded and a single finger pointed down at a bulge that tented the fur up. “I tried archery. I tried wrestling. I tried algebra, Second Age history, and recalling the changes in the Lindon-Lorien Trade Agreement of 154, and nothing is working.”

“Oh, is that all?” drawled Glorfindel. He began to peek under the covers, but Erestor snatched them out of Glorfindel’s grip and burrowed up to his nose under them. “This is quite a conundrum.”

“I tried to masturbate, but I think I did it wrong,” came Erestor’s muffled voice.

“Oh?” Glorfindel sat up and looked positively delighted. “How did that go?”

“Very badly, as you can see!” With a frustrated sigh, Erestor sat up and shoved the fur down to his knees. “I just made it tougher and uglier looking.”

“And how did you find yourself in this predicament?” Glorfindel folded his hands in a very clinical manner, while the blanket covering his own lap twitched.

“You know how,” grumbled Erestor.

“I can guess, but I would hate to make an unfounded assumption,” said Glorfindel sweetly.

Erestor let out a disgruntled sigh. “You were naked, I was naked—“

“Yes, curiously, I recall being naked, but I do not recall you being naked.”

“I always sleep naked. At least, I used to before all this happened,” Erestor amended. “I decided if you were going to sleep naked, then so was I.”

“Fair enough.”

“I should think so.” Erestor made an exasperated noise that sounded like a growl and a whine. “And now, it is stuck like this.” He flopped back, and when his head hit the pillow, his erection bobbed temptingly. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his fists balled up in frustration.

“You seem really tense,” observed Glorfindel. “Perhaps you need to relax a little more.”

“How can I relax like this?” questioned Erestor.

Glorfindel stretched to reach the basket he had brought earlier. “So, you want me to help you with that?”

“I thought that much was obvious.”

There was something fisted in Glorfindel’s palm as he crawled back and removed the blankets as he traveled. “For starters, you need to relax.” Glorfindel reached under the pillow to deposit something before he crawled over Erestor and sat down close. His knees were against Erestor’s side, and Glorfindel ran his hand along Erestor’s arms and uncurled the tensed fingers. “Close your eyes, breathe deeply... we could practice kissing again,” he added.

“That got me into this in the first place,” Erestor reminded as he opened his eyes.

With a smirk, Glorfindel hovered over Erestor, his golden hair brushing against Erestor’s face. Before Glorfindel could reply back, his loose curls brushed Erestor’s ears. The left one twitched, three little flicks, and Glorfindel froze. “That was adorable,” he announced before he could stop himself. “Do it again,” he requested.

“Do what? No—stop that.” Erestor grabbed at Glorfindel’s hand, which was poking at Erestor’s ear in an attempt to make it move again. “I bite. And not the good kind.”

“Sorry. That was cute.”

“Can we please get back to it?”

“Oh, my apologies, I did not know you had somewhere to be,” teased Glorfindel.

Erestor growled and reached up with one hand. He took hold of a fistful of Glorfindel’s hair near the nape of his neck. Twenty-three possible ways to continue came instantly to mind. Instead of pulling Glorfindel down to allow their lips to meet, Erestor sharply yanked back to expose Glorfindel’s throat. Milk-white skin, with its opulent glow, tempted Erestor to lunge, but he held back the animalistic instincts. Glorfindel trembled as he felt the warm breath against his flesh, and Erestor stretched until he was close enough to draw his tongue up from the hollow of Glorfindel’s throat. He continued without the need of the encouraging words from Glorfindel, up to the quavering knot. Erestor paused here and drew it in between his lips. He sucked upon it until the groan from Glorfindel vibrated in the back of Erestor’s throat.

Onward he went, around the curve of Glorfindel’s chin and up over his parted lips. Erestor took the invitation and tried a taste. Glorfindel drank him in, and while their tongues dueled for several minutes, Glofindel’s wish to submit was so overpowering that it hardly seemed to surprise either of them when Glorfindel was pinned beneath Erestor.

They were still only kissing, though now Erestor had Glorfindel’s wrists pinned at either side of his head. Erestor was straddled over Glorfindel’s hips, and every now and then their erections collided or slid against each other. Every time, Glorfindel cried out incoherently, and Erestor tightened his restraining grip.

Their kisses deepened, from mere exploration to suggestive passion. It became a game. Erestor would thrust his tongue in and out of Glorfindel’s mouth, and his hips sometimes mimicked the movement. Glorfindel would try to capture it, and when he did, he sucked on Erestor’s tongue with his back arched until Erestor broke free to repeat it all again.

Some of Erestor’s hair slid down to obscure his view and meddle with their kissing. He sat back to pull the strands away from his damp face. “Sorry – I have no idea what got into me,” he apologized suddenly when he noticed he had held Glorfindel’s wrists so tightly that his nails punctured the pale skin.

Glorfindel reached for Erestor’s right hand. Gently he brought it to his lips, first to kiss his palm, and then to lick the trace of blood from the pads of his fingers. “You could have me now if you want,” he offered, and he spread his legs further to nudge at Erestor’s knees. In case there was still any uncertainty in what he was willing to give, he said, “Whatever you desire, Erestor, whatever you want, whatever you need, you may take from me, and I would give it gladly.”

“I...” Erestor let out a long held breath. “I am not ready for that just yet.”

“Maybe next time,” whispered Glorfindel.

“Maybe.” Erestor wiped at his face before another droplet of sweat dripped down upon Glorfindel.

“Still want help with this?” asked Glorfindel as he reached down and teased his fingers along Erestor’s erection. Erestor sucked in air sharply and nodded. “Lie down, handsome.”

Glorfindel retrieved the bottle he had placed under the pillow as Erestor reclined beside him. “If something feels bad, tell me,” he whispered as he worked the cork out of the bottle. “Same goes for anything that feels good. I want this to be really good for you, honey.” He dribbled some of the oil into his palm before he carefully set the bottle to the side and cuddled up next to Erestor.

Before Glorfindel could touch Erestor, his arm was stilled. “I am still going to be a virgin after this, right?”

With a firm nod, Glorfindel leaned down to give Erestor a reassuring kiss. “Both of us,” he confirmed.

Erestor took a deep breath and nodded as he settled down again.

“No tensing up, now, or we will have to do all of that relaxing all over again.”

“Not much of a threat,” uttered Erestor, and that was all he said for a while.

Glorfindel began with light touches, but every time he asked questions like “Like that?”, “Harder?”, or “Faster?” Erestor only nodded silently with flushed cheeks, so Glorfindel stopped asking and slowly intensified his manipulations. Once he had Erestor bucking into his hand, he draped a leg over Erestor’s and began to grind against Erestor’s thigh while they kissed again.

Erestor experimented with his teeth as Glorfindel found a rhythm that suited them both. Blood was drawn from Glorfindel again, from inside his lip where it had yet to heal from earlier, and from a nick in his ear as Erestor tested his limits. While very vocal, Glorfindel’s gasps and howls were followed by pleas for more. Erestor, on the other hand, said nothing, made no sound, and even his breathing, though quickened, was inaudible. 

It only took a few minutes of friction from Erestor’s leg for Glorfindel to spill against him. When Glorfindel opened his eyes and saw Erestor observing him with lustful envy, he stole a kiss that left their teeth stained red again. “Look how much you make me burn for you,” he declared as he kissed along Erestor’s jaw to his ear, leaving a trail of blood mingled with sweat in his wake. “You fear you will hurt me, but such pleasure can only exist with pain. I may cry when you draw blood, but drink my tears, and you will taste my joy.”

Just as Erestor had been quiet as Glorfindel touched him, he was silent as he climaxed. There was barely a tremble, and had he not closed his eyes and spilled upon his stomach and Glorfindel’s hand, it may not have been evident that he was sated. When he opened his eyes again, Erestor felt Glorfindel tense up when he did not speak or smile, so he pushed himself up by his palms and kissed away the doubt. 

“Let me clean you up,” offered Glorfindel when they parted for air. Erestor nodded without hesitation. He could feel the sticky sweat covering his heated body, and his hair stuck to his skin. Glorfindel stood up and retrieved water and some clean cloths before he returned to wash away the evidence of what they had done. “Are you feeling alright?” he asked uncertainly as he settled down and methodically cleaned and dried each limb before he moved on to Erestor’s face and neck, where sweat still trickled down from his forehead and the blood traced lines down his throat and chest.

Erestor nodded slowly and finally let out a sound, a labored breath, and then he leaned to the side to rest his cheek on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “I think I might be falling in love,” he admitted softly. 

“I know I love you,” answered Glorfindel back. “I started to have feelings when we met, but I know now. I cannot be apart from you, never again.” He set the cloth down and lifted his hand to play with Erestor’s damp and tangled hair. “You look lovely like this. Your hair is so dark and wavy,” he commented.

“So if mine gets wavy after a night of passion, does that mean yours goes straight?” wondered Erestor. He smiled when Glorfindel laughed. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me for sexual favors,” he answered. His hand wandered down to rub Erestor’s shoulder. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you relaxed like this. Thank you, for taking your mask off for me.”

Erestor stretched slowly and sighed. “It has been very difficult for me to let my guard down,” he realized. “I still have a nagging fear in the back of my mind that something will happen to take you away from me, but like you said, we have to live for today.” He picked up one of the cloths to reciprocate, though his hand was slower and more curious.

“Mmmhmm.” Glorfindel kept still while Erestor cleaned up, and then he pushed all of the damp cloths aside with his foot after he stood. He then offered his hand to Erestor. “We should let the sheets dry. I wish we had fresh bedding.”

“The furs are still untouched.” Erestor stood with Glorfindel’ assistance and then retrieved them before they could become damp from the cloths that had been pushed their way. “Back on the floor tonight,” he realized as he looked around. With the mattress taking up a substantial portion of the cell, and all of the provisions Arwen had delivered, it was difficult to find a large space to spread out.

Glorfindel provided the solution by stripping the bed. Sweat had soaked into the pillows, so these were tossed aside. Erestor spread one of the furs out on the mattress. “I hope you will not be too disappointed that you will not have your own blankets tonight,” he said as he hugged the other fur in a bundle.

“The only way that would disappoint me is if I did not get to share them with you,” Glorfindel answered as he approached Erestor from behind and wrapped his arms around him. When Erestor did not respond, he bowed his head and kissed Erestor’s shoulder. Erestor tilted his head, and the throw started to slide down to the ground.

“Glorfindel... I have a little problem...”

“Wh’s that?” he asked as Erestor released hold of the fur and turned around to press close. “Oh...” Glorfindel narrowed his eyes as he felt something firmly prod his hip. “Round two?” he asked as he stepped on the fur that was on the ground and maneuvered it between them on the floor.

“I hate to ask,” muttered Erestor.

“You never have to ask me,” answered Glorfindel as he nuzzled at Erestor’s ear. It flicked back as he swiped his tongue around the edge. “Just tell me. Command me.”

“Glorfindel?”

“That sounded like a question.”

Erestor reached around and smacked Glorfindel’s rear. “Get on your knees,” he growled. Glorfindel closed his eyes and lowered himself to the ground. Slender yet strong fingers of both of Erestor’s hands threaded through Glorfindel’s hair, kneading his scalp. Glorfindel purred his approval while Erestor bit his lip and adjusted his stance. 

Without trepidation, Erestor rubbed his erection against Glorfindel’s cheek. He bent his knees, and the tip poked at Glorfindel’s lips. When Glorfindel began to open his mouth, Erestor teasingly moved away. “You are like a waterfall in the springtime,” whispered Glorfindel when he failed a second time to catch Erestor. “Just took a little warmth and now you can hardly stop yourself.”

Instead of providing an answer, Erestor bent his knees again and centered his body. Glorfindel, though still held in place, managed to stick his tongue out far enough to make contact. He smiled victoriously as the first moan of the night came from the back of Erestor’s throat. Once more Glorfindel opened his mouth with the intent of enticing Erestor, but Erestor pressed forward and passed between Glorfindel’s willing lips. 

Something instinctual set in, and Glorfindel was able to run his hands up and down Erestor’s limber legs while Erestor rolled his hips and set a steady pace. The grip in Glorfindel’s hair tightened, and he grasped Erestor’s thighs, clung to them as he stroked his tongue over heated flesh and swallowed over and over until a warm, salty flow caused him to swallow again and again. As Erestor’s muscles relaxed, Glorfindel suckled the limp flesh one last time as it slid from his mouth.

“No mess to clean up,” said Glorfindel as he stood and broke the silence. “Did you—“

“Why did I do that?” Erestor asked himself suddenly.

“—enjoy... uh... well...” Glorfindel furrowed his brow as Erestor hugged himself and walked away. “I... sort of wanted you to,” called out Glorfindel. When he received no answer, Glorfindel followed. “Erestor, I would not have engaged in something I did not want to participate in.”

Erestor turned to face Glorfindel and slowly shook his head. “I should have controlled myself tonight. This was not right for me to do to you. We barely know—“

“No.” Glorfindel grasped Erestor’s shoulders. “Stop it! Those are not your words – I have learned who you are tonight, or I am learning, at least. Someone else told you those things and you keep repeating them. You wanted me tonight. You stopped yourself—that voice in your head or whatever it is, stopped you.” He pulled Erestor closer and growled at him. “Tell me you did not want me under you tonight. Tell me you did not lust for me. Tell me!”

There was fear in Erestor’s eyes, and he looked away. “It was wrong.”

“No!” Glorfindel had Erestor up against the wall in an instant. “It was wrong of me to leave you yesterday, very wrong of me to curse at you as I did, and I swear I will never do either of those things to you again. But you, my dear, my darling, my love,” he emphasized, “you are wrong to say what we have done, the bond we are forming, the love we are sharing – you are wrong to despise it, to run from it.”

“I do not deserve this,” argued Erestor weakly. His arms were still tight across his chest, hands clinging to his own body as he blinked away tears.

Glorfindel opened his mouth again, but instead of words, he stepped forward and attacked with his lips. Erestor lifted his hands up between them. For a moment he pushed against Glorfindel’s chest, but as he tasted the traces of blood and sweat mixed with his own essence, his hands traveled up over Glorfindel’s shoulders to pull him closer. His fingers slid up the sides of Glorfindel’s face as they continued to kiss, and played in the golden waves that crowned Glorfindel’s head.

“Now stop being an idiot,” said Glorfindel when he stepped away from the wall and pulled Erestor along with him. “I love you, and I need you. I want you to be happy. If you did not deserve this, then why did Eru or the Valar or whomever you believe in bring me to life again so that I could travel back over the sea away from paradise to find you?” He did not let go as he stepped onto the mattress and sat down, but Erestor did not fight against it, and soon they were entwined on the fur. “Paradise, Erestor. I gave that up. I knew there was something here for me I had to find, and now that I have found you, I will fight to keep you, even if that includes fighting against these ridiculous notions you have of being undeserving or sinful or... whatever other lies you have been fed.”

Erestor closed his eyes and nestled closer. “I am trying,” he whispered. “This is just so much so fast.”

“I know.” Glorfindel kissed the top of Erestor’s head. “We will talk in the morning, just as we planned. Celebrian told me what happened to you a century ago, but I want to hear it from you. You might not think that matters, but it matters.” He sighed. “You might think this sounds silly, but when you wake up, Erestor, you have a choice. You can choose to wake up worrying and fretting about everything you think people are going to frown upon and how you think everything that happened in the past is going to repeat itself, or you can wake up and choose to enjoy what you have, and what we have been given, and move forward.”

“It just seems like things always go wrong.” Erestor twirled a lock of Glorfindel’s hair around his finger. “Nothing ever goes right for me.”

“I think this has been going well. More or less.” Glorfindel lifted his hand to stroke Erestor’s cheek. “You have known very little light in your life, my love. I understand that. But think about it this way: If you had lived a life with few hardships, would you be able to appreciate something this blessed this quickly? Embrace this.”

“I am embracing you,” answered Erestor matter-of-factly.

Glorfindel leaned in for a kiss, and he smiled as he felt Erestor meet him halfway. “When you have negative feelings, I want you to think of one thing—how much I love you. If you find you have thoughts of what you think others will think or whatever is plaguing you, I want you to tell yourself, ‘I am loved’.”

“That sounds silly.”

“I told you that you might feel that way,” reminded Glorfindel. “Erestor, I would do anything to make you happy. Will you do this small thing for me, to make me happy?”

Erestor reached to his throat, but he had removed the pendant when he had disrobed, so he had to be content to twirl one of the strings from the coif instead. “Alright.”

“Good.” Glorfindel let go of Erestor long enough to reach out and retrieve the other fur throw that had been left nearby on the floor. Once they were cuddled under it together Glorfindel kissed Erestor once more before he softly whispered into Erestor’s ear, “You are loved.”


	15. Tears

“How long have you been doing that?”

“Hours.” In his defense, Glorfindel added, “I did not want to wake you.”

“So blowing at my ear in hopes it would compulsively move seemed like a better idea.” Erestor opened one eye. He and Glorfindel were still snuggled together. “I wonder what time it is.”

“Almost evening.” Glorfindel stretched with a little grimace. “If you will excuse me...” He detangled himself and quickly made his way to the chamber pot.

Erestor sat up and rubbed his throat. “How did I sleep so long?”

“I just kept sending the guards away. We still have some fruit and nuts and candy if you are hungry,” he suggested. When he turned around again, he caught sight of Erestor sitting up and watching him. “See something you like?”

For a moment, Erestor continued to gaze upon Glorfindel. Soon after, he turned his head and rubbed the top of his head before he attempted to readjust the coif. “We need to talk.”

“Mmmhmm. I did not want to rush into that.” Glorfindel washed his hands and approached the bed as Erestor slipped out to take care of his now urgent needs. “Let me get something for us to eat,” he offered to give Erestor the only privacy he could offer.

It only took Glorfindel a few minutes to set up a makeshift picnic. He was just uncorking one of the many until now untouched bottles of wine when Erestor joined him. “I put out a little of everything I could find,” said Glorfindel as Erestor knelt down in front of where he sat.

Erestor looked around for a moment, and then he bowed his head down and lifted a hand to touch Glorfindel’s cheek with the tips of his fingers. Neither said a word as Erestor stroked his fingers across Glorfindel’s skin. Slowly he closed his eyes. “You are the first person in my adult life who has told me that they love me.” He looked at Glorfindel again, and then they both seemed to know where it was leading. Erestor leaned down further and Glorfindel stretched his neck as he reached a hand behind Erestor’s neck. They kissed twice, and then Erestor spoke as he brought his fingers between their lips to trace along Glorfindel’s skin. “You accept me so easily.”

“I will never turn you away,” said Glorfindel against the pads of Erestor’s fingertips.

Fingers curled back and Erestor lowered himself down so that he was eyelevel with Glorfindel. “Where to even begin...”

“How about an easy question.” Glorfindel reached forward to retie the strings from of the coif before it slid off Erestor’s head. “I thought when I first saw you wearing this that it kept the dust from the books on the high shelves off of your head.”

“We dust the shelves regularly,” said Erestor. “It has nothing to do with any sort of practicality. Just an Avarin thing.”

“Really? I admit, I am not very familiar with the Avari. Do people in all of the tribes wear them?” asked Glorfindel.

“Actually, this is just a more acceptable version for wearing in ‘civilized’ communities. In ‘the wild’, Avarin children cover their heads with more elaborate veils and things. As the stories go,” he explained while Glorfindel poured wine for each of them, “the youth wore them to keep all of the thoughts and knowledge and skills from vanishing. The thought is that a child of the Avari is born with the capacity for all things. As they grow and learn a little about everything, they eventually decide what they like best. When they enter into adulthood, the veil is cast away. It was also a defense – the fabric was woven in such a way that it seemed to camouflage the person who wore it if they hid underneath it. It was a way to hide the children if orcs attacked.”

Glorfindel held out one of the bowls of wine. “Did you just decide to keep wearing it?”

Erestor sighed. He gripped the bowl and looked down into the blood-red liquid. “I never made it through the rituals. My parents were gone before I was old enough. Unlike your culture, Avarin Elves are not adults until the first hundred years have passed.”

“What about... other Avari?” asked Glorfindel. He sipped his wine before he set it aside. “Could you not seek them out? Or do you prefer to live as you have been?”

“I just... maybe I should have done that earlier. Now, I think they would just wonder what was wrong with me that I waited almost a century. It just makes it seem like I was afraid to or something.” Erestor stuck a finger into the wine and sucked it off his finger. 

“Never had wine before?” asked Glorfindel.

“Not straight from the bottle. I usually water it down.” Erestor set the bowl aside. “Things would have been a lot different if my parents were still around.”

“Do you want to talk about that now, or do you want to wait?”

“Until, what? Later? What will later matter. It will not bring them back.” Erestor took a few deep breaths. “So you obviously know now that my parents did not sail.”

Glorfindel nodded silently.

There was a significant pause. “I am not stalling. I am just not entirely certain I know where to start.”

“What if you began by telling me about your parents?” suggested Glorfindel. “Would you like me to get some water for you?”

“What I really want is tea, but water would be nice, thank you.” Erestor crossed his arms behind his head as he stretched and caused his neck and back to make several cracking noises. Glorfindel stood up, but watched until Erestor rolled his neck back and forth and relaxed. “Who do you want me to tell you about first?”

“Who were you closer to, your mother or your father?” asked Glorfindel when he finally moved to retrieve the pitcher.

“My mother. That probably does not surprise you.”

Glorfindel shrugged as he poured a full glass and then brought it back. “I would say I was closer to my mother, too, but that was because my sisters were all a joy to my father and followed him about on business, which left the baby, me, at home with my mother, and when there were no more children born, she never cut the apron strings.” He handed the glass to Erestor.

“Thank you.” Erestor took a sip before he continued. “I think I was more independent. Quiet, but I would wander off into the garden and read until the sun set or explore the towers of the house and find a dark, unused room to...” He looked down and smiled to himself.

Glorfindel lowered himself down and lounged as he nibbled a bit of this and some of that. “This sounds like a promising story.”

“I used to find dark places without people in them. There were a lot of rooms left abandoned after the war. They still had furniture and clothing and all sorts of things in them. I used to pretend I was exploring ancient realms and discovering artifacts.” He was holding the glass of water in one hand and rubbing his arm with the other. 

And he realized he was smiling like an idiot.

“Must have been some artifacts you found.”

“My mother was something of an archaeologist,” he said as a way to revert back to the previous topic. “She was always trying to find relics from the lost cities. That was how she met my father. She was searching for Cuivienen and she happened upon the Kinn-lai. That was the last of her archaeological adventures. She spent the rest of her life dedicated to the study of the Avarin people, and later, of organizing what she recorded in her journals.”

“How long did she live with the tribe before she and your father decided to come to Imladris?” asked Glorfindel.

“Long enough to learn a lot, not long enough to be completely accepted as one of them.” Erestor took another sip of water. “She wrote all of the books about the Avari that are in the library here, except for maybe three or four of them. I think I can undoubtedly say that she raised me. My father was not fond of the indoors, so the windows were always open so that he could go outside as if he was going to another room, and that happened a lot. Sometimes we would go weeks without seeing him. I understood,” he said quickly. “It was like keeping a wild animal caged whenever he was home. So we spent most of our time outdoors, when he was around.”

“How was your mother during the times he was away?” asked Glorfindel.

“Sometimes she went with him.”

Glorfindel blinked. “So they left you alone?”

“Uh... no.” Erestor rubbed the back of his neck. “They always thought they were leaving me in the care of someone. So, I would tell Lindir’s parents I was staying by Arwen’s, and I would tell Arwen’s parents I was staying by Saelbeth’s, and Saelbeth’s parents would think I was at Galion’s, and so on. They thought I was spending time with friends. They just never really figured out that, excepting Arwen, I would not call any of my peers friends.”

“What did you do with yourself?”

“The towers. I just lived in the abandoned parts of the house and had my pretend adventures. I squirreled away food so that I had supplies.” Erestor lifted the glass to hide his smile. “No one ever knew what I was doing. It was just me and my imagination, left alone for days at a time.”

“Clever boy,” commented Glofindel. 

Erestor sighed and stretched his legs out. “That all came to an abrupt end.”

When Erestor sat and stared at the water in his glass for a while, Glorfindel sat up and lifted Erestor’s feet onto his knee so that he could massage them. “We can talk more later if you want.”

“I just remember it so...” He set the glass down and rubbed his face. “Fractured. I remember some parts of it vividly, and other days are just lost to me. Several people have told me that I crawled under my bed and cried for hours at some point, but I have no recollection of that. I never saw my mother after it happened, either. It was Lindir’s mother who found her, when she did not attend council. All I saw was the aftermath. There was blood all over the first room of the family suite we had, and blood on the sheets in the bed, on rope, on items I could not identify at that age.”

Erestor went silent again, and Glorfindel moved closer and rubbed the back of Erestor’s neck. “Maybe we should get dressed so that we will be ready when we are allowed to bathe.” Erestor did not respond to this, so Glorfindel stood up. “Let me bring something over,” he offered.

Glorfindel was all the way by the mattress picking up the discarded clothing from the floor when he heard Erestor again. “When they found my father, he never denied it. He said he ran to get help, but he knew the moment when she died and he got scared so he hid in the stables. He kept saying he was sorry and never meant to hurt her. I remember sitting outside of his cell during the two weeks following her death. I just sat there and listened to him howling and screaming and praying, just praying, to die, to join her.”

Erestor drank more water as Glorfindel slowly rejoined him. The pile of clothing was set aside, and Glorfindel sat beside Erestor. He coaxed him into his arms with little resistance. “And no one thought to take you from the dungeon?”

“I clung to the bars, or to him if he came close enough. I told him I would find a way to get him out and let him see the sun again.” Erestor took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Glorfindel in turn. “Besides, I was ninety-one. By all accounts of anyone who was not my parents, I was an adult. No one was going to force me to move. He was supposed to go to trial, but he never did. When the guards came for him, he broke free. In all of the confusion, he managed to get hold of a spear and he impaled himself upon it.”

Glorfindel held Erestor tighter. “And you were there.” Glorfindel sniffled.

“I held him while he died. He said he did not deserve it, that my mother had died alone while he had gone for help.” Erestor took a deep breath and let it out. “The whole matter was covered up very thoroughly. Lindir’s mother had, as I said, seen the room where my mother died, and her body. Lindir’s father was the mortician at the time, though he did not deal with people as often as he dealt with animals. From the accounts that Lindir told, his father took it upon himself to study the corpses by dissecting them. He studied them before he cut them apart, and... I just... Glorfindel, stop, I need air.” Erestor shoved Glorfindel away.

Glorfindel loosened his arms, but he kept Erestor close and stroked his head. “You can stop,” he whispered. “I am sorry. I—“

“Celebrian probably told you the most scandalous part of the tale,” Erestor said quietly. 

“She did not go into this much detail,” said Glorfindel, who looked sick.

“My parents were in the middle of some sort of intimate act when whatever happened that day happened. I heard about that from whispers in dark hallways and messages scribbled on scraps of paper that were not properly burned. It was practically unbearable. I almost thought, at one point, that maybe I would be better off to follow my father,” Erestor admitted. “I knew my mother’s work better than anyone. I immersed myself in it. Lindir was my fiercest rival; it was his to lose the position, and that he did. Some night in the Hall of Fire, I am told, he loosed his tongue and recounted things as if it was a horrific ghost tale for amusement. Lord Elrond was there, unbeknownst to him. The next day, I was appointed in my mother’s place, and that has irritated Lindir ever since.”

Erestor’s tears were few, but he did need to pause a few times to wipe them away. “Lady Celebrian encouraged me to create an alternative. So I wrote a story about how my parents grew weary of these lands and sailed West, and that is what the story has been ever since. I did not stop at adviser; I needed something to take up the rest of my time. Every minute I was not working, I was thinking, and my thoughts were dark at that time. I apprenticed with the librarian, and I took his position when he sailed. Things have been getting better, but... it creeps up on me now and then.”

Unlike Erestor, Glorfindel was freely weeping. “I am so sorry,” he kept whispering. His hands comforted, but he was cautious in getting too close, wanting to give Erestor space. 

It was Erestor’s turn to move, and he maneuvered around Glorfindel so that he was behind him. He slide his arms around Glorfindel’s chest and kissed his shoulder. “So there it is. I do not want to hurt you, but I fear I might. I am not going to crawl out any windows to go howl at the moon, but, I am half Avarin. I do not even know quite what that means, but I know that at times I have thoughts and urges that scare me.”

“You should not be the one comforting me,” Glorfindel realized.

“In the language of my father’s people, there is a word that is used in times like this. It basically means when two people are so close that one feels the pain of the other and expresses it when the other cannot.” Erestor bowed his head and nuzzled Glorfindel’s neck. “I was always told it was one of the most selfless acts. I have not been able to cry for years, but I have felt so empty. Something is finally filling that void, but I am still so scared that I am going to hurt you.”

“You are not your father.” Glorfindel licked the tears from his lips. “And I am not easily broken.”

“My father was a good man,” answered Erestor. “My mother was not a twig.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I did not mean it like that.” He turned around so that they could embrace each other again. “You know that you need to be careful, and you will be.”

“I bit you last night, and clawed your skin open.”

“I think that sort of thing is going to happen with us,” Glorfindel explained. “You may have noticed that I was not unwilling. We just need to take precautions.”

“But you understand now why it would be better if you had left.”

“Better for whom? Not for me, and certainly not for you.” Glorfindel leaned back and cupped Erestor’s face in his hands. “I am not leaving you. You are loved. Say it,” he prodded.

There was a moment of hesitation, followed by the words. “I am loved.”


	16. Playing with Hair

“Tell me more about your people.”

“My people?” Erestor stretched his arms out over his head. “My people are here in Imladris. All I know about the Kinn-lai was what I was told by my parents or what I read in the books my mother wrote.”

Glorfindel rolled onto his side so that he could face Erestor, who remained on his back. “You know more than I do. I am interested in learning more about you... about your heritage.” They had bathed and dinner was waiting when they returned. Tonight’s guard did not seem concerned that Erestor might have escaped, so the manacles were forgotten. After dinner, they considered checkers only briefly before they decided to turn in, and there was no need for discussion tonight as they discarded their clothing and crawled into the bed together.

Slowly, Erestor turned to face Glorfindel, matching his sprawl in the opposite direction. “What would you like to know?”

“You spoke of some sort of trials of manhood.”

“Oh, right. The rituals,” said Erestor.

“I was curious about that when you mentioned it. For the Eldar, we reach fifty, we have a big party, we get drunk, act stupid, call ourselves grown-ups.”

“I am well informed of the frivolity of first-time ‘adults’ in the valley,” Erestor informed Glorfindel with a slight chuckle that spoke of a variety of stories he might share later.

“What is it that the Avari do?” asked Glorfindel.

“I think we need to start with a basic lesson about those you call Avari,” explained Erestor. “My father was one of the Kinn-lai. They have rituals different from the other five tribes. Just as the Kinn-lai would not differentiate the Vanyar or the Noldor from each other or from the Teleri, you are considering all of the tribes as one, which is not accurate.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I meant no disrespect.”

“I do not mind,” stated Erestor. “As I said, they are not exactly my people. They have no idea I exist.”

“You know, you bring up a good point. They have no idea who you are, and that means they would not know how old you are. If you were to want to go through these rituals, you could go to them and say you are a hundred, and how would they know?” Glorfindel looked quite smug at his solution.

“I think building a relationship on a lie is a terrible idea. If I should ever find them, and be accepted among them, I would probably want to go back again, if I could even find them a second time. No, no, it is all really quite impossible,” conceded Erestor. “Besides, with my luck, I would end up finding the wrong tribe.”

“Would that matter?”

Erestor frowned. “Of course it would matter. Besides, I would not want to be put through the trials of some of the other tribes.”

“Are the rituals so different for the others?”

“Some of them are a little similar; they might have shared elements in a way. I would really not want to chance it. One of them requires, that in order to enter manhood, the boy is taken to a secluded spot, where he strips naked and is covered in a sort of paint made of white clay. He lives one cycle of the moon as a wild creature.”

“Well...” Glorfindel considered this. “I was expecting something worse.”

“Oh, there is more.” Erestor rolled back onto his back again. “At the end of this torment, there is more to come. The elders return, and if the boy has survived, then they build a fire and capture him, using whatever means necessary.”

“So, he fights against them, no matter what?”

Erestor nodded. “That is the point of him living alone in the wild. He becomes feral. Once they do capture him, he is pinned down. Then one of the elders takes a rock that has been sharpened like a knife’s edge and the boy’s foreskin is held and twisted while some words of wisdom are spoken, and the skin is sliced off.”

Glorfindel stared at Erestor. “You cannot be serious.”

“Very serious. There is more,” he added.

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“Once the skin is severed, the boy is made to swallow it without chewing, thus destroying his boyhood and becoming a man. Also, it ensures that he will be able to impregnate a woman with a son, according to their legends. If he does not swallow that which made him a boy, he can only father daughters, and he is seen as unfit to take a wife. I suppose that part does not apply to me.” Erestor reached back to rub his own neck. “However... I am doubtful, if I tried to explain that, they would much care. Or allow the next part to be skipped.”

“There is... more?” Glorfindel looked as if he hoped he was wrong.

“Just one more thing,” assured Erestor. “That same rock is taken by the newly made man, who stands before the fire and slices open his penis along the underside and bleeds into the fire. It is his way of proving his manhood, and also, showing respect for women and the monthly blood they shed and pain they endure when they are not with child.”

“Then is it over?” 

Erestor nodded casually. “Then it is over.”

“But, that is not your tribe.” Glorfindel looked at Erestor sternly for confirmation.

“No. I told you that already.” He lifted himself up again. “Crazy bunch, that lot.”

“So the Kinn-lai do not do any of that, correct?”

“There is fire involved, and blood, but not like that.”

Glorfindel seemed to be uncertain how to ask the question on his mind. “So... do you...”

“No.”

“I have not stated my question yet.”

Erestor tilted his chin down and looked at Glorfindel down his nose. “You were going to ask if the Kinn-lai believed in circumcision.”

“How did you even know what I was going to ask?”

“It is written all over your face.” Erestor smirked. “You know, there are a lot of worse things in the world.”

“Oh, please.”

“Would it bother you?” Erestor sat up the rest of the way and drew his knees up a little to bend them under the sheet. “If my tribe believed in circumcision, and I went through with it, would that upset you?”

“I would think it would upset you more!”

Erestor shrugged. “If it was part of the culture—“

“Please tell me you are not seriously considering—“

“Calm down!” Erestor reached out and patted Glorfindel on the head. “The Kinn-lai do no such thing. I only wondered if that would greatly upset you, if I were to do it.”

“Oh... you are thinking about it,” Glorfindel realized.

“They always seem less ugly in pictures without it. Cleaner, too.”

Glorfindel made a growling groan and turned away onto his other side. “I would still love you if you did it, but...” He sighed several times. “Well. I suppose, in the end, it is your choice.”

“You have nothing to worry about. Elrond refused to do it when I asked him about it thirty years ago.”

“Blessed Valar, Erestor, you asked Elrond to circumcise you?” Glorfindel cringed. “Why?”

“Because Elrond is a healer and he seemed like the best person to ask.”

“No. No, not...” Glorfindel rubbed his head. “That is a pretty... big decision. And permanent. Not like you can grow it back if you change your mind.”

“Why would I want it to grow back? Anyhow, it does not matter. Elrond considered my request, but he told me it was not practical. He said at my age it could be a hazard. I recall being amused at the time that there was finally something I was too old to do.” He came closer and snuggled up against Glorfindel’s back and rubbed his shoulder with one hand. “Would you like to know what the Kinn-lai actually do?”

“As long as your beautiful penis stays intact,” said Glorfindel as he took hold of Erestor’s hand and pulled it over his shoulder and down to his lips. “No cutting or stabbing or mutilating,” he added as he kissed the knuckles of Erestor’s hand with every word.

“Beautiful penis,” snorted Erestor. “That is a first.”

“I have had so little time to acquaint myself!”

“You are so dramatic.” Erestor hesitated a moment, and then reciprocated Glorfindel’s kisses by testing first with his lips and then his teeth at Glorfindel’s shoulder and neck. Glorfindel relaxed a bit and moaned softly, and so Erestor moved up to nip at Glorfindel’s ear as he spoke to him. “So. The Kinn-lai. Just as ‘primitive’, not as prone to eating part of their own bodies. That is the part that would upset me most of all from the one I just explained. I know that I could handle the rest of it, even survival in the wild for a month, but ingesting one’s own foreskin... that would have been a deal breaker for me.”

“It is such a blessing I am not Avarin. I would never have survived any of it,” decided Glorfindel.

Erestor yawned. “Maybe you would have done better in my tribe. First, it all happens in a single night, from sundown until sunrise.”

“This is already a hundred times better,” Glorfindel said.

“In the forests where the Kinn-lai live, there are several poisonous and venomous creatures. The most common are snakes. Sometimes, a frog or a spider is used – it all depends on the boy’s family and what they choose.” Erestor gently pulled his hand from Glorfindel’s grasp so that he could brush aside the golden hair that obscured his access to Glorfindel’s back. “After meditating by the fire, the boy would be pricked either on the arm or shoulder or neck. This was decided by the elders. The closer to the face, the braver he was expected to become. The blood would attract the creature, which would either sink in its fangs or in the case of the frogs, the venom was on the tongue. When the frog lapped up the blood, its venom would seep back into the boy’s veins. At any rate, the boy would suffer the venom and the ill effects, which usually included pain and hallucinations, and at times, paralysis.”

“And we are back to it being a terrible idea again.” Glorfindel shook his head, expression unseen by Erestor. “At least there can be no question. The Avari are a creative people.”

Erestor chuckled. “Would you prefer I stop?”

“No. Sorry. I guess I am just fretting about it. I mean, if you did decide to go through this—“

“How?” Erestor gave Glorfindel’s bicep a squeeze. “I am too old now. Anyhow, Elrond would probably forbid that, too. And I have no way to find venomous snakes or anything else here in Imladris.”

For the next few minutes, Erestor ran the tips of his fingers over the surface of Glorfindel’s back. He had never been so close to another person before, and his inquisitive mind mapped out the pale skin and dwelled upon every faint shadow of a scar, freckle, bump, or hair. He was pulled away from the impromptu examination when he heard Glorfindel say, “Well, out with it.”

Erestor drew his hand away and leaned over Glorfindel to kiss his jaw languidly. “With what?”

Glorfindel turned his head in order to catch Erestor’s lips with his own before he moved away. “What else do you plan to do with your body? I have learned how unyielding you can be. If you were presented with the opportunity – let us say you found your tribe, and they were made to understand that it was not by your choice, but by the loss of your parents, that you did not face your trials when you came of age. If they gave you the chance, would you take it?”

“Probably,” answered Erestor, drawing out the word. Glorfindel gave him a stern look. “In an instant,” Erestor self-corrected.

“Mmmhmm. So, what else is there?” Glorfindel maneuvered himself back onto his other side to face Erestor again. “Because I can see the process going on up here,” he revealed as he used two fingers to tap at Erestor’s temple. “You never really considered finding them before, and you would not have broken your rhythm of life here to do so. But your routine has been broken – shattered, perhaps. You spent one day out of the library, away from your domain, away from Lord Elrond’s council, and Imladris did not crumble. You spent a week away, and all that is here, and all that happens, did not cease to be.”

“So what you are saying is I am unimportant.”

“No. Stop that,” admonished Glorfindel. “Always with the negatives.”

“It sounded very negative.”

Glorfindel sighed as Erestor reached out to play with random curls of golden hair. “What I meant by it was you never thought you could leave before because your fear was that they could not cope without you. You are important, and as soon as Lindir messes something up, Lord Elrond will be right down here demanding you return to work.”

“He would send Lady Celebrian,” corrected Erestor. “Or Arwen.”

“The point is you are needed here. However, you have your own needs, too. This seems like something important to you. You would not still wear this if it was not,” he added as he lifted a hand and placed it over the coif on Erestor’s head. “So now, for the first time, you are thinking, if they can make it a week, why not a month, or several months, or as long as it takes to travel across the wilds and find the Kinn-lai.”

“If there are any of them left.”

Glorfindel snorted. “I know why we need each other. You need to soak up some of my optimism.”

“And you...” Erestor realized he had been braiding the golden strands. “You have very nice hair.”

This caused Glorfindel to laugh out loud. “Oh, Erestor.”

“What? It is true.” Erestor unraveled his work and combed his fingers through it. “It smells nice, too. How does it stay so soft?”

“It just... it...” Glorfindel got and odd look on his face. “Erestor... are you...?”

“Hmm?” Erestor glanced up impishly and lifted his left leg over Glorfindel’s right. “Am I what?”

Glorfindel groaned. “Oh, you are,” he growled. “I cannot believe my hair is turning you on,” he muttered as Erestor nuzzled at the golden curls and rubbed up against Glorfindel’s thigh.

“I cannot believe you are just figuring this out now,” gasped Erestor as Glorfindel reached down under the covers to aid him. Erestor pushed against Glorfindel’s right shoulder until he had him on his back, and then straddled him. As Erestor unhurriedly rolled his hips, Glorfindel became erect as well. Erestor bent his head down to rub his cheek against Glorfindel’s hair. “Where did you leave the oil?” he hissed into Glorfindel’s ear.

“Oh… oh… I think… more in the basket,” Glorfindel babbled. His eyes were closed and his arms were over his head, wrists crossed over one another.

Erestor bowed his head to suck on Glorfindel’s lower lip before he rolled off and to the side to grab the basket. He dumped the contents onto an empty part of the bed. “Someone was ambitious,” he decided as he grabbed one of many of the small glass bottles that now littered the sheet.

“We have a lot of chapters to get through,” reminded Glorfindel as he waved a hand in the direction of where he might have thought the book was. Erestor was peering down at him again a moment later. “I did not want to have to ask Arwen to bring us any.” Glorfindel tried to buck his hips upwards, but Erestor was kneeling on Glorfindel’s thighs. “Are you going to make me beg now?”

“No.” Erestor dropped the bottle of oil into Glorfindel’s open palm. “I am going to make you take care of that.” He sat up with his hands on his hips, but kept Glorfindel’s legs pinned down.

Glorfindel struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. “Oh you think so, do you?” Glorfindel managed to work the cork out of the bottle with his teeth.

“No. I know so.” Erestor reached out with his right hand, fingers extended. He pushed Glorfindel’s hair back over his ears and traced from the tips down around the curve of his lobe. Erestor drew an imaginary line around Glorfindel’s jaw and down his throat. He continued, nearly all the way down, and then back up again until his fingers reached Glorfindel’s chin. Suddenly, Erestor took a solid, bruising grip and pulled Glorfindel closer. 

Teeth scraped over tender flesh and clicked together as Erestor chased Glorfindel back down into the pillows. Somehow, Glorfindel managed to spill oil into his hand and sneak it between their bodies. He had only enough time to slick Erestor’s erection and grasp his own before his arm was pulled away. 

Erestor kept his weight shifted so that Glorfindel’s legs were immobile, but now he pinned Glorfindel’s arms over his head. He leaned down and pulled on Glorfindel’s bottom lip with his teeth and drew blood. His tongue flicked out to soothe the wound, and then he said, “Now you can beg.”


	17. Possessiveness

“You are cunning and cruel,” accused Glorfindel as he tried to move against Erestor. 

Erestor, still on his haunches, tightened his grip on Glorfindel’s wrists. His arms trembled from holding the awkward position, but he kept just away from giving Glorfindel, or himself, any relief. “You love it,” he drawled with half-closed eyes.

“And how,” sighed Glorfindel as he closed his eyes. “Erestor, please, I need your touch. I want to feel you against me.”

“Not bad, but you can do better.”

Glorfindel opened his eyes and grunted as he made another attempt at contact. “Please, Erestor.” His voice dropped down, and he groaned as he closed his eyes once more. “I want you so badly. I want you to use me, take me, find your pleasure with me, in me, anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything,” whimpered Glorfindel. “I am yours, willingly, to do with as you wish. As pleases you.”

“And what if it pleases me to keep you like this? Wanting and waiting?” Erestor bowed his head down so that their noses touched.

“Erestor, please,” whimpered Glorfindel. “Please touch me. Please, anything, just do not leave me like this, Erestor!”

“But if I grant you that, I cannot watch you writhe under me with your flushed cheeks such a lovely shade,” whispered Erestor, who had lowered his head just enough to speak against Glorfindel’s lips.

“Oh, if you want me to writhe, then place your hands upon me,” Glorfindel groaned. “If you want me wild and undone, move. Against me, within me, let me feel you, let me feel your passion, let me feel your need. Make me cry, make me scream for you, just do not make me wait!”

Erestor nosed at Glorfindel’s hair and sniffed along the side of his neck. “Tell me again, what did you want me to do to you in the waterfall?”

“In the… oh…” Glorfindel turned his head to the side as Erestor pinched the sensitive flesh of his neck between with insistent teeth. “You want me to talk really dirty to you,” he realized.

“I want you to stop trying so hard to be poetic about it,” mumbled Erestor as he nipped his way down Glorfindel’s throat.

Glorfindel turned his head back and flicked his tongue at Erestor’s ear before he bit back. Erestor was not expecting retaliation, and he momentarily dipped down to make contact that caused them both to acknowledge it with needful noises. “I want you to hold me down. Take your pleasure, master me. I want you to fuck me, Erestor. Take me on my hands and knees, my ass in the air, while you plunge into me over and ov—“ Glorfindel moaned as Erestor finally made contact, each sliding against the other.

After a few thrusts, Erestor paused. He was panting as Glorfindel whimpered and opened his eyes. “Did I tell you to stop begging?”

Glorfindel tilted his head back. With his throat exposed, Erestor leaned in to give him an encouraging lick. “I want you to grip my hips so hard your fingers bruise my skin. I want to look in the mirror and be reminded of it in the morning. Not just by sight. I want you—ah, yesss,” he hissed, but he caught himself this time and kept going as Erestor set a rhythm. “I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it in the morning. I want to wake up throbbing, your heat still inside me. Make me tremble every time I hear someone say your name; make everything I do just the time that fills the gaps between the time we are together.”

“Keep talking,” commanded Erestor when Glorfindel paused again, but this time Erestor did not stop his movement. He was too frenzied. The blankets were starting to stick to their bodies, and beads of sweat threatened to run down Erestor’s face as he pressed down harder and moved his hips faster.

“All I really need is you, Erestor. You could lock me away, keep me to yourself, and I would be content.” Glorfindel bit his lip and tried again to arch his back, but he could only whimper, still at Erestor’s mercy. “I just want to be under that waterfall with you again, spread wide for you. I want you to take that soap you had and work it in. I already know it will sting; I want it to. I want your pleasure, but I want the pain, too. I want the grip of your teeth, the bite from your nails – I want you to beat me, whip me, make me bleed. And then, I want you to shove me down and grab my hair. Pull my head back – you like that, too – and take me. Ride me hard... and rough... and...” Glorfindel sighed and reached up to smooth back Erestor’s damp hair. “Good thing. I was starting to run out of ideas.”

Erestor stretched his legs out and collapsed down on top of Glorfindel. “You still... need to...”

“I was holding back.” Glorfindel smiled as Erestor lifted his head up and narrowed his eyes. “I thought maybe you could do something for me.”

Erestor was still catching his breath, so he only arched a brow in askance.

Glorfindel ran his tongue along his lip where Erestor had drawn blood earlier. “In that pile of stuff from the basket should be something ivory in color, about the length of my hand, and about this wide,” he explained as he demonstrated with his fingers.

There was a brief nod and Erestor crawled over to push around the various items. A few of them he picked up to examine with curiosity, until he spied what Glorfindel had to be interested in. “You could just tell me to look for something phallic,” commented Erestor after he had retrieved the item. “This is actually very pretty. Why do actual penises not look like this?” he asked as he turned it in his fingers and admired the craftsmanship.

“Because we would all have a problem if they were erect like that all the time,” replied Glorfindel. He started to reach out for the implement, but Erestor picked up the oil and began to dribble it over the phallus. “Are you going to—“

“You were the one who just said he wanted to be mastered.” Erestor set the remaining oil aside and wrapped his fingers around the device. He slid his hand up and down several times. “You also mentioned being on your hands and knees,” he added as he looked at Glorfindel with a suggestive gaze.

Glorfindel rolled over and shoved the blankets and sheets away. “Like this?” he asked as his body trembled and awaited approval.

“Hmm..” Erestor rose up on his knees, one hand holding the phallus, the other sliding over Glorfindel’s back. When he reached his shoulders, he pushed down firmly so that Glorfindel’s cheek was against the pillow. “Like this,” corrected Erestor as he gave Glorfindel’s accentuated backside a firm smack. When Glorfindel sighed contentedly instead of letting out a whimper, Erestor drew his hand back and gave him a dozen or so more strikes. He stopped abruptly. “You would tell me if something was wrong, right? If I hurt you, if I actually—“

“Erestor, I would tell you to stop,” said Glorfindel quickly. “Right now, I really want you to keep doing what you are doing. Please,” he added, and he stretched his body to present his reddening rear-end shamelessly.

“Since you asked so nicely—“ Erestor drew his hand back further this time, and Glorfindel gasped, and Erestor flinched. “Are you—“

“Again,” he gasped. “Please!”

Several times more, Erestor struck Glorfindel, and each time Glorfindel’s encouragement grew louder until he was sobbing into the pillow. “Are you certain you are alright?” asked Erestor with greater concern.

“Erestor, this is so good,” came the reply. “I missed this so very much. I never thought I would find anyone who would indulge me again without question,” he said in a quivering voice.

“Shhh, alright… I just had to be sure.” Erestor rubbed Glorfindel’s back to calm him before he resumed once again. After only a few smacks, Erestor lifted up the phallus he had been gripping in his other hand and slid it along the cleft of Glorfindel’s ass. Glorfindel strained his muscles to try to get closer. “Look at you,” Erestor said as he found his mark and started to push steadily forward. “Is this good?” he asked as he experimented and moved it back out before he pressed it in again.

Glorfindel made sounds that were undecipherable, but he nodded, so Erestor continued. One hand worked the phallus in and out, and the other repeatedly struck the already tormented skin, brightening the marks made earlier. Glorfindel rocked back against the anticipation of the strikes. The muscles in his legs tightened and he began to sob softly once more, but this was not the relief Erestor heard earlier. Now frustrated, Glorfindel’s fingers twisted the pillow and he tried in vain to communicate his current need to Erestor.

The spanking stopped, and Erestor lodged the phallus in until the base that kept it from slipping in too far was the only thing still revealed. He shifted around on the mattress to a different angle and peered down to see what he expected: Glorfindel was rock hard, possibly harder than he had ever been in this lifetime, and while unable to come up with the words in the state he was in, he was begging for release. Erestor found the bottle they had opened earlier and deposited the remaining oil hesitantly in his hand. It oozed out between his fingers to wind slippery paths down his hand, around his wrist and arm, as he reached under Glorfindel’s tented body. Erestor’s hand hovered just out of reach of Glorfindel’s erection.

“Please,” whimpered Glorfindel as he caught enough of the movement from his vantage point.

Erestor took a deep breath and took hold of Glorfindel’s erection. His first few strokes were reluctant, but as Glorfindel cried out louder, Erestor found a comfortable pace and grip, and it did not take long before the oil on his fingers was mingling with the fluid that Glofindel was spurting onto the sheet. “That is so weird,” he muttered as he squeezed Glorfindel’s erection a few more times in an attempt to milk it dry.

Glorfindel pushed his head up from the pillow, only to lower himself onto his side. “Erestor… can you… help a moment?”

“What do you—oh, sorry!” Erestor had been sniffing at and examining the thick discharge that was on his hand, but realized that the phallus was still buried inside of Glorfindel. He reached down with his other hand and carefully removed the device. “Oh, shit.”

“What? What is it?” questioned Glorfindel with alarm. When he saw that Erestor’s facial expression was directly related to his comment, which was literal, he settled down again. “Yeah, that happens sometimes.”

“Yeesh.” Erestor held the implement away and grimaced even more. “So if I stick my penis in there, it might come out looking like this?”

“And that is why Eru created soap and water.” Glorfindel rolled up into a seated position and took the soiled device away. “Stay here. I will be right back.” He leaned in to kiss Erestor before he stood up.

“Stay here? I was planning on a late night drink in the Hall of – oh no, you did not just—“ Erestor was suddenly off the mattress and standing on one foot while Glorfindel stood near the water they used for cleaning and tried to figure out what Erestor was talking about it. “Creeper. That damned centipede is back!”

“How can it possibly be the same one?” asked Glorfindel as he cleaned himself off before he started on the device they had used.

Erestor turned to look at Glorfindel while he teetered unsteadily. “You think there was more than one?”

“Sure, I think I counted five or six in that back corner one day,” he commented as he thoroughly washed and dried the phallus. He looked up when a hoarse squeak was emitted by Erestor. “What? This is a cave. A dark, damp cave, with cracks in a few places where water gets in, and probably several dozen sorts of insects and things.”

“I do not care about the water or the other creatures. If there was a colony of centipedes, why did you not—oh, Eru, there it is again!” He stumbled back two paces. “I cannot sleep there. It is probably infested with them.”

“Erestor.” Glorfindel approached and tossed the phallus into the pile of oil bottles and other items. “Erestor.” Glorfindel placed his hands upon Erestor’s shoulders, and Erestor shuddered for a moment. “He is a hundred times smaller than you are. He is far more afraid of you than you are of him.”

“Then he should stay over on his side of the cell,” declared Erestor.

Glorfindel blinked calmly at Erestor, held back his laughter, and tilted his head forward to kiss him. “I love you, you idiot. Go and clean yourself off. I will de-centipede the mattress and remake the bed. Alright?”

Erestor gave the mattress an uncertain look, but he nodded and walked to the basin while Glorfindel sighed and set upon the task of first gathering all of the things that had been dumped on the bed before he stripped the bedding, shook it all out, and lifted the mattress to make sure there would be no unwanted guests. When he had the bed back in order again, he coaxed Erestor over.

“Hungry?” asked Glorfindel when they were both settled in. When Erestor shook his head, he asked, “Tired?”

“Not yet.” Erestor ran a hand along Glorfindel’s back and stopped when he cupped his posterior. “Are you sure I did not hurt you?”

“You gave me everything I wanted tonight,” purred Glorfindel. “I really never thought I would meet someone who was like Turgon again.” A moment later he squeezed his eyes shut and an exclamation of, “Fuck!” came out of his mouth.

A gentle hand patted Glorfindel’s head. “Well, Blondie, if you thought you were keeping some sort of secret from me on that, I think you should know I figured out who your First Age lover was shortly after you revealed the few clues that you did.” 

“How could you possibly have figured it out?” 

Erestor cleared his throat. “I like reading biographies. You said you had four sisters, and from everything I read, you only had one who crossed the Helcaraxe, and that was Elenwe. So it was a very easy process of elimination, and I know my history well enough about… Gondolin and… stuff.”

Glorfindel stopped staring off at the wall and focused his concentration upon Erestor. “How many books have you read about me?”

“Oh, a few.” Erestor cleared his throat again. “Dozen.” 

“A dozen?”

“A few dozen.”

Glorfindel raised a brow. “There are dozens of biographies about me?”

“Well…”

“And you read all of them?”

Erestor rolled over before he would answer. “There are forty-five biographies about you. Thirteen here, and the others are in libraries in other places in Middle-earth.”

Glorfindel cuddled up to Erestor’s back and stroked his arm. “And did you read all forty-five of them?” he asked, his lips so close to Erestor’s ear that he could feel the smile.

“I read forty-four of them at least once each. The forty-fifth one I wrote,” he declared without prompting.

The smile widened. “Are you one of those ‘Glorfindel and the Balrog’ enthusiasts?”

“I would doubt I am the only person who grew up considering you their childhood hero.” Erestor pulled the nearest blanket up to cover his cheeks, which were unexpectedly burning. “Maybe the only one who wrote the definitive work on your life?”

“Oh...” Glorfindel grinned and kissed the small part of Erestor’s shoulder that remained exposed. “And is this definitive work available in the library of Imladris?”

“At present time, unless someone has checked it out. I think I will just hide now,” he decided as he pulled the blanket over his head.

Glorfindel waited a moment and then followed. His glow illuminated the stuffy space under the covers, where he found Erestor now on his back. “You look lovely when you blush.”

“Oh, stop it.” Erestor started to turn away again, but Glorfindel caught his arm and he allowed himself to be drawn closer. “I... think I probably had some boyhood infatuation about you when I was growing up. It sort of vacillated between wanting to be you and wanting to be with you. Gosh, this sounds so stupid to say out loud,” he scolded himself.

“I had a crush on Feanor.” Glorfindel laughed at his own words. “I used to think he was just the most amazing man I had ever seen or heard of, ever. When my sister got married, he was at the wedding. Now, I knew he had a wife, but there were also rumors that he was unhappy and they were somewhat separated. I was young, and I was an imbecile. During the reception, I thought I was going to go impress him by talking to him about crafting or language or something intensely brilliant. So I sauntered over to where he was brooding when the dancing started and I spent several minutes of smiling and nodding his way, until I finally seemed to have caught his eye. I was about to speak when he sneered at me and said, ‘What are you staring at, boy?’.”

“I suppose that killed that idea.”

“No. I told you, I was an imbecile. Instead, I tried to salvage the chance and say something witty, but I think I complimented his boots when I meant to say something about the weather, so it came out as half of one sentence and part of another.” Glorfindel chuckled at his own story. “So as he stood there giving me a look like I must be the village idiot, I took a sip of wine and promptly choked upon it. I sputtered and drooled onto my tunic, and he turned and walked off. That was the only time I ever talked to him.”

“And look at you now,” complimented Erestor. “You hardly ever drool.”

Slowly, Glorfindel walked his fingers up along Erestor’s arm and back down again. “I think, things like this, just prove that there is a greater plan. We both had traumatic experiences in life. In your case, you did nothing to cause them. You have been a victim of circumstance. In my case, well, I did a lot of bad things. In fact, there are few sins I did not commit in my former life, but I was also caught up with the idea of loyalty and I was young. Reasons, not excuses, but it is what it was. Here we are now. It just feels like this was meant to be. And it feels like, this time, this is how it is meant to be. For me, at least. I am also so very happy that you are finally letting me in and that you are showing me your true self.”

Erestor stretched up to kiss Glorfindel. “This has been very surreal. Two weeks ago, I think everyone would have said that I was the most boring person in Imladris. And they would not have been wrong.”

“Now look at you,” said Glorfindel as he recalled Erestor’s words to him a few minutes earlier.

“They probably still say I am boring, except now, they probably say I am a boring pervert.” Erestor sighed.

“Hey. None of that, now,” said Glorfindel. “Erestor?” he prodded.

Erestor sighed. “Are we still doing this?”

“As long as you are going to continue being pessimistic.”

“Fine.” Erestor huffed again before he said, “I am loved.”

“Yes, you are, you beautiful creature. You are very much loved and admired.” Glorfindel rubbed Erestor’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I was your first crush, and you did not even know me yet. That is so sweet.”

“I think I might go up again. It is getting awfully suffocating down here.” Erestor disappeared back above the blankets and tried to rub the color out of his cheeks before Glorfindel joined him.

Glorfindel did sit back up, but he gave Erestor a few moments alone before he did so. “You never finished telling me about the Kinn-lai and their coming of age rituals,” he said.

Erestor tried not to appear too thankful for the subject change. “I told you about the snakes, right?”

“Yes. Snakes and frogs and hallucinations, and no penis mutilation.”

“Everything happens from the waist up,” Erestor assured Glorfindel. “After the boy is poisoned, the creature is taken to a spot where offerings have been left for it. However, it usually just hops or slithers away. There is a bonfire that has already been lit, and the boy will then dance around it. At some point, he casts the veil into the fire when he is ready for the next part of the ritual to begin. This part is all very similar to what the girls go through. The next part is different for each gender.”

“Oh. I did not realize that the girls would have rituals of this sort.” Glorfindel frowned. “Does the other tribe you were talking about—“

“Let us not dwell upon what they require for a girl to become a woman,” cautioned Erestor. “The Kinn-lai, as I am explaining, are different.”

“Sorry,” apologized Glorfindel.

“It is alright. You are just curious.” Erestor took a moment to rearrange things. When he was able to look Glorfindel in the eyes, noses almost touching, with their fingers entwined together, he spoke again. “The dance is said to be a way to show joy in the changing, but as my mother pointed out to me when my father began to discuss the rituals and what would happen when I went through them, her belief is that it speeds up the reaction to the venom. So now, the person is running a fever, having visions from the hallucinations, and in some cases they might vomit or have other adverse reactions.”

“Does anyone ever die?” interrupted Glorfindel.

“Not that I know of. Usually, those creatures that excrete the venom attack much smaller animals, like... well, like centipedes,” he said as a faint rumble could be heard above them.

“Sounds like that is going to be some storm,” remarked Glorfindel as they heard another crash of thunder.

Erestor nodded and listened to the battle in the heavens for a minute before he continued. “The next part of the ritual is performed by a close relative. Usually, it is the boy’s father or the girl’s mother, but it could be an elder sibling or a grandparent or older cousin or something. Based upon the events of the child’s life and what they say of the visions they have, they are marked on their skin as part of the rite of passage.”

“Like a tattoo?” 

“Some of the design could use something like dye. The charred wood from the bonfire might be used to make a dark brownish grey color, and there were recipes in one of the books my mother wrote for yellow and purple, I think. Porcupine quills are sharpened and used to push the dye under the skin. My father’s was mostly from the soot from the fire, and the scars.” 

“What sort of scars?” questioned Glorfindel warily.

“From the ritual. The markings are like a tattoo, yes, but not entirely a tattoo. Some of it comes from creating scars.”

Glorfindel gave a disgruntled sound. “The more you tell me, the more dangerous it sounds.”

Erestor patted Glorfindel’s cheek. “It has been done for thousands of years, and no one dies from this part, either. The scarring can happen in different ways. The skin can be cut and nicked, and when it heals, it leaves the image as a red scar. Sometimes they use a tool to cut away small bits, but they can also use the other end of the quill, too. It would be pushed in, and then as it is pulled out it tears open the skin. Not all of the scars come from cutting. Sometimes metal rods were heated and pressed into the flesh, like a brand, to produce a different shade of red once healed. The more red, the—Glorfindel?” Erestor sat up with alarm and patted Glorfindel’s face as his eyes rolled back and head drooped. “Glorfindel? Glorfindel!” Erestor checked to be sure that Glorfindel was still breathing before he clamored out of bed to get the pitcher of water. 

It took two small handfuls of water thrown at his face for Glorfindel to come out of his swoon. “Sorry,” he said dazedly as Erestor dried him off.

“Alright. We need to have a serious discussion about the book, and our plans, and things you say you want to do, because we are not going to go through it. There must be another way to—“

“No, no, I will be fine,” Glorfindel assured Erestor. “I have no trouble at all with pain or any of that. I enjoy things that—well, you were here earlier,” he said defensively.

“You just passed out and all we were doing was talking.” Erestor held the damp cloth up as proof.

Glorfindel took the cloth and tossed it aside before he pulled Erestor down and held him. “I am so selfish,” he admitted. “You are so perfect. Not only are you intelligent, you are beautiful. And...”

Fingers gently caressed Glorfindel’s lips. “You know... if you can put up with me wearing this all the time,” Erestor said as he pointed up for a moment at the covering on his head, “then you do not have to worry. No venomous frogs, no tattoos, no piercings.”

“Piercings?” Glorfindel tilted his head. “I passed out before you said anything about that, I guess.”

“Right. So just relax right now so it does not happen again,” advised Erestor.

Glorfindel nodded against the pillow and tightened his embrace on Erestor. Erestor was beginning to doze off when Glorfindel asked, “What sort of piercings?”

“What does it matter? If the tattoos are going to bother you—“

“The branding bothers me. Burning flesh bothers me.” Glorfindel squirmed uneasily as he spoke. “There hardly seems to be a reason to do that when you can tattoo or, if you really want to go so far, to scar yourself.”

“Except, it is not up to me. It would be the decision of the person performing the rite as to what it would be, where it would be, how it would be done,” said Erestor. “I have an idea,” he suddenly announced. “When Arwen visits tomorrow, I am going to ask her to bring the books about the Kinn-lai down here. Then, you can read about it yourself. It has been decades since I even thought about it, so I might be missing some of the details anyhow.”

Glorfindel nodded slowly. “Where does the tattoo go?” 

“This is the last question tonight. I need some sleep. Alright?”

Glorfindel nodded.

“It starts on the shoulder. Sometimes, it just continues down the arm, but other times it swirls to the back, or moves around to the chest or the neck. My father had his entire back covered, but some of the pictures in the books showed very minimal areas of coverage.” Erestor opened his mouth to add something, but closed it again. “Good night.” He moved off of Glorfindel and fluffed his own pillow.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing important.”

“Erestor...”

Erestor sighed. “I do not want to upset you. I thought it would be funny to share, but you might not think it that way.”

With a frown, Glorfindel poked at Erestor’s shoulder. “If you do not tell me, I am not going to be able to sleep.”

“It was just something my father used to say as a harmless threat. If I had some chores to do, he would tell me to go do them and then add if I did not finish them on time or the way I was supposed to, then his promise was that he would make sure my ritual tattoos went all the way up my neck and over my face.”

Glorfindel cringed. “Do they really do that?”

“Some do, but that sort of thing was usually pretty rare and reserved for warriors and elders. He just said it because, well, fathers make things up sometimes. He never would have done that,” Erestor assured Glorfindel. “Can we sleep now?”

“Of course. As usual, we have a lot to discuss in the morning.”


	18. Leaving Marks

The scent of chocolate awoke Erestor the next morning. He propped himself up to find he was alone in the bed, but Glorfindel was not far away. He was dressed, and had set out the food for breakfast picnic-style again. Momentarily, Erestor deliberated putting on the robes placed at the end of the bed, obviously for his consideration. They were neatly folded, and he could tell that Glorfindel had painstakingly tried to make them look as perfect as possible. Instead, Erestor dragged a soft purple blanket with him when he stood up and shook it out to wrap it around his shoulders before he strolled over and sat down. “Good morning.”

Glorfindel had a mouthful of muffin, but he nodded as he swallowed. “Morning.” He licked his lips to catch any crumbs. “Arwen was already here, but I gave her instructions on what to bring back.”

“Tha’s good.” Erestor lifted his hand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Seems… wetter in here than usual.”

“The storm, I think. There were some puddles near the back. Once we are released, I plan to have a stern discussion with Elrond about this place.” Glorfindel leaned across the span between them and placed a plate in front of Erestor. “If he intends to use this place again, it needs to be completed properly.”

“This was never really meant to hold anyone,” explained Erestor as he looked over the food and selected one of the muffins. “It was part idle threat, and part holding cell, but no one was ever meant to live here. Even my father, when he was jailed, he was in one of the upper cells. In fact, until we were ordered here, I was not even sure it existed. I heard about it, but sometimes I wondered if there was really anything behind the door.”

“Surprise.” Glorfindel poured a glass of milk and held it out for Erestor.

Erestor took the glass with a smile and set it down before he broke his muffin in half. “We keep adding to the ‘we need to talk about’ list. Would you like me to write an agenda?”

“No. Actually, yes, that would be adorable,” corrected Glorfindel. “Will you take minutes, too?” He cleared his throat. “I call to order the first official meeting of the Glorfindel and Erestor Relationship Council. Glorfindel… present. Erestor… present. I have called the roll. Old business?”

The muffin Erestor held began to crumble, but he caught the piece before it could hit the ground. It did cause the blanket to slide off of his left shoulder, and with his hands full he did not adjust it. “Why do you get to be listed first?”

“Because I am older. Age before beauty,” Glorfindel added.

“Oh, stop.” Erestor popped the chunk of muffin held in his left hand into his mouth and licked the melted chocolate from his fingers. “Old business,” he repeated. “The book. The oldest business there is to tend to.”

“How true. In light of discussion yesterday, I think we should talk about that first,” Glorfindel decided. “I am still in favor of continuing with our original plan.” He reached out to pull the blanket back up for Erestor, as it had slipped down to his elbows. “As I have already explained, there is nothing in that book I have not done before.”

“Your… episode yesterday had to do with your concern for me,” recognized Erestor. “While I appreciate that, I would like it to be noted in the minutes that I am not a fragile maiden.”

“I never said you were,” countered Glorfindel. “It would grieve me if that were the case. Others have done well to shelter me over the years from the pain of my first life. Yesterday was the first time, excepting nightmares, that my memories of what happened to me during the last day of that life flooded back.”

Erestor groaned. “I never even considered that when I was explaining things to you.”

“Good. I prefer to be ‘Glorfindel’, not ‘Glorfindel and the Balrog’. I hate that bloody nursery rhyme,” he added. “I would prefer if it was addressed directly, and if people would not edit their conversation. So please—do not think I am asking you to censor yourself. I have weaknesses; I have demons. Eventually, I need to face them. Just make sure you have a little water ready in case I faint again.”

“Noted. Shall we take a vote, then? All in favor of continuing with our plans to prove that the book is mostly harmless, signify with the word ‘aye’.”

“Aye,” said Glorfindel, and he even raised his hand for the vote.

Erestor broke off another piece of the muffin. “The ayes have it, and the vote is unanimous in favor. Next order of discussion would be New Business.”

“First order of New Business,” said Glorfindel, “would be related to your heritage. I make a motion for you to accept Kinn-lai as part of your cultural identity. Discussion?”

“Well...” Erestor looked confused. “I already wear the veil,” he reminded Glorfindel.

“Yes, sort of, but you said this was more of a compromise, right?” Glorfindel waited for Erestor to nod. “Did you ever wear the actual garment?”

“When I was really young, I did. Children being children made fun of it. I was tied to the back of my chair twice, and they would try to steal it or pull it over my eyes, so that was when my mother came up with this instead,” he explained. “I hesitate to move back in that direction.”

Glorfindel began to clean up the remains from breakfast. “I do not think it would be permanent.”

“Oh?”

“I think we need to find a way for you to complete the trial of manhood. I also think you should return to wearing the actual customary veil, because, it is going to be more noticeable, and it is going to make you want to get rid of it.”

 

“Interesting logic, but I am curious to see where you are going with this,” Erestor admitted. “Continue.”

“If you keep wearing the coif, well, who cares? You do not even care. You need to claim your heritage. You need to do that by, well, claiming your manhood. Maybe we need to go and find your tribe, or maybe there is another way, but I think that it is important to you, and I think it would be important to your father.” Glorfindel held his breath as Erestor stood up and walked to the wash basin. “You are not a boy anymore, Erestor, you have not been for a long time, but you do not feel you have the right to move on. Not in the eyes of those who do not even know you. So, let us find them. Let them know you. I think you will be surprised.”

“And what if they do not accept me?” he asked with his back still turned as he folded the blanket and picked up the pile of clothing from the end of the bed.

“Then you will still be accepted by the person who thinks you are the most important person ever, and we will figure out our own rituals.” Glorfindel folded up the cloth on the floor and then joined Erestor across the room. He held out his arms, and Erestor deposited the pile of clothing for Glorfindel to hold as he dressed. “Did your father leave the Kinn-lai on good terms?”

“Yes. From what he told me, he was one of the best artists, and he was a hunter.” Erestor pulled his shirt over his head and fastened it all the way to the top before he took the inner robe from the pile of clothing Glorfindel held. “He and my mother actually thought about leaving a few times before they did, but his parents were always convincing him to stay. It was when they were killed in an attack that my father made the final decision to leave.”

Glorfindel shook out the outer robe and smoothed out the fabric as he waited for Erestor to finish fussing with the linen he was already wearing. “Then I would think that your tribe would be happy to have you present yourself to them. There are probably a few who wonder what happened to your father.”

“Right. That is going to be fun to explain.” Erestor shook his head. “I know, I worry more than I should,” he said before Glorfindel could say it. He allowed Glorfindel to aid him in putting on the heavy black velvet robes, decorated with an overlay of ebony brocade and silver threads so dark they were a steely grey. “Alright. We finish the book project first. We move on to dealing with my cultural identity. What else did we need to talk about?”

“We need to vote. All those in favor of Erestor and Glorfindel seeking out the Kinn-lai after they get out of jail, raise your hand.” He took hold of Erestor’s wrist and raised it up in the air. “That would be one... two... opposed? Motion passed,” he announced as he dodged around Erestor’s other hand moving to pinch his ear. “Next item?” he asked as he spied the pendant that Erestor usually wore and picked it up.

“Was there anything else?” asked Erestor. “I think we can adjourn the meeting.” He was walking around the mattress slowly and looking at the ground, but stopped when he noticed that Glorfindel was holding the object he was searching for. 

Erestor held out his hand for the jewelry, but Glorfindel moved around behind him and lifted the chain around Erestor’s neck. Erestor reached up to lift his hair out of the way. “I think there was one more item on the agenda,” said Glorfindel as he fastened the chain in place. “If, by chance, someone were to gift you with a robe that was not black—“

“I wondered how long it would take you to start meddling with my wardrobe.”

Glorfindel wound his arms around Erestor and rested his chin on Erestor’s shoulder. “It seems a pity, if your favorite color is yellow, that you have no robes that reflect that. So I make a motion that Erestor wears something that is not black at least once a month. Discussion?”

“I would like to amend that motion,” stated Erestor in the very same tone he used in council.

“Councilor Erestor is recognized by the floor,” said Glorfindel as he bowed his head in reverence, and in order to nuzzle Erestor’s unexposed neck.

“I amend the motion to read Erestor wears something that is not black at least once a month if Glorfindel allows his hair to grow as long as it was in the First Age.”

Glorfindel slowly raised his head and turned to look at Erestor’s profile. Erestor did not move, but his gaze shifted to the side. “Clever.”

“Discussion?”

There was a nervous twitch in Glorfindel’s shoulder. He retreated from Erestor and walked around in no particular pattern, straightening up various items in the room. When he made his way back around to Erestor, he said with solid conviction, “You are not going to get hurt if you wear something that is not black.”

Erestor stood straight with his hands folded. Except for his bare feet, which were unseen with the length of the robe, he appeared to be in his official capacity. “You have beautiful golden hair. It is a pity that you do not allow it to grow to its natural length.”

Glorfindel paced around again. He chewed at his lip and stooped down to make the bed and circled back. “Your position as a librarian and an adviser will not be impeded by your choice of clothing.”

“It is a shame that you trim it as short as you do. Even the soldiers in Mirkwood usually let their hair grow to their waists. Lower back, at least,” said Erestor. “I am willing to compromise a little.”

With a frown, Glorfindel walked around the cell the other way. He tidied up everything he could find and straightened things he had moved during his first go around. Eventually, he was standing in front of Erestor again. “And what if we go to war?”

“Then I will cut it myself so that no harm comes to you because of it.” Erestor paused, his gaze calculating. “While wearing my yellow robes.”

Glorfindel lifted a finger and fought to come up with a retort. “Do you usually win arguments?” he finally settled on.

“I always win,” replied Erestor mater-of-factly. “All those in favor?”

“Fine.” Glorfindel lifted his arms in the air. “I am holding you accountable for keeping it braided!”

“Gladly. Meeting adjourned?”

“Yes, please, before I find myself making more concessions I did not expect.” Glorfindel sat down on the edge of the mattress, but was up again when the sound of the door opening was heard by both of them. There was a burst of light, and it sounded like a group of people were approaching. “Good thing we got dressed,” he whispered as he and Erestor met near the door.

Erestor was holding the breakfast tray with the expectation it was being collected. He was not wrong, but there was a delivery as well. “Good morning, gentlemen.” Elrohir was at the lead with a pile of books, and Arwen was behind him with a few more. Elladan was minding the torch to keep the passage lit. “Mother asked we bring these to you. She thinks she found everything that was requested.”

“Whoa. This place really is a shithole.” Elladan was looking beyond the pair in the cell to the structure of the enclosure and contents of it.

“Elladan. There is a lady present,” scolded Glorfindel.

“Oh. Sorry, Erestor.”

Before Glorfindel had enough time to glare and come to Erestor’s defense, he heard Erestor flippantly say, “Fuck you, Elladan,” as he took a few of the books from Elrohir after he set the tray on the ground.

“Fuck you, too,” shot back Elladan casually.

“Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on.”

“Fuck the horse while you fucking ride the—no, forget it, forget it,” said Elladan louder as his brother and Erestor laughed at the same time. “Seriously, this place is bad. Does father know what it looks like down here?”

“No, and keep it to yourself. Glorfindel had enough trouble convincing him to let him back down here. You know he is still brooding about mother ‘working against him’.” Arwen handed the rest of the books through to Erestor, who carried them back to where the other books were being kept. “Maybe I should see if we can find a little desk to bring down here for you.”

“That would be very nice, Arwen, but I do not know how much space we really have to work with,” said Erestor as he motioned around.

Elrohir began to hand the books he was holding to Glorfindel. “Why are they even keeping this door locked? Look at all of the space on this side of the bars.” When he was no longer holding any of them, he paced the area outside of the cell at the bottom of the steps. “There has to be half again as much space as what you have in there. They could just leave this part unlocked and the desk could go here. I think we could fit a little table and some chairs, too.”

Erestor returned as Glorfindel walked with the second pile of books. “Elrohir, I appreciate the offer, but I do not think that your father is going to allow that.”

“Why does he have to know?” Elladan scanned the area. “What if we pulled some of the furniture out of the north tower, Elrohir?”

“You want to go into those rooms?” asked Elrohir uncertainly.

“Yeah, I want to fucking go into dead peoples’ houses and steal their shit.” Elladan shook his head. “There were lots of tables and chairs in the hallways. Most of the tables were very thin, so I think we could use one of them for a desk. Do you think you can help me bring them down if Wenny keeps father distracted?”

“Sure,” answered Elrohir.

Arwen put her hands on her hips to argue. “Why do I have to be the distractor? Father will know something is going on when I come back without the two of you. You should go distract him, Elrohir, he never suspects you.”

“Because Elrohir’s distraction will consist of ‘Good morning Father! Can we spend time alone without Elladan and Arwen? No reason! I just thought—‘ and that will be the end of that,” explained Elladan. “Might as well send him with a sign that reads ‘Elladan and Arwen are in the tower to smuggle things to the prisoners’.”

“No.” Elrohir punched Elladan on the arm opposite of the hand that held the torch. “I am not that bad!”

Elladan did not even flinch. “There is a reason we can never give mother a surprise party, and his name starts with El and ends with Rohir,” he said directly to Glorfindel as if Elrohir was not beside him, glaring intensely.

“Boys.” The sharp tone came from Erestor, and it brought an amused smile to Glorfindel’s lips to hear the youngest person in the room scolding some of the older ones. “If you want to do something like that, which would be very helpful, I would ask you consult with your father –and- mother first. It seems she has some sway over his decisions, and then there need not be all of this sneaking around.”

“Oh, fuck that,” muttered Elladan, but Elrohir nodded in agreement. 

Arwen motioned for Erestor to slide the tray under the door. “I think that we should listen to Erestor. He probably knows father better than we do, in some respects.”

This comment made Elladan nod in agreement. Elrohir looked a little envious of that observation, and the expression made Erestor frown. “Thank you for bringing the books so quickly,” Erestor said as he bowed his head and folded his hands, making them effectively disappear within the fabric.

“You are welcome. Mother said she was happy to help with your research request. Oh! I almost forgot. She wants to know if she can have the book back,” said Arwen.

“Which book?” asked Erestor.

Elladan smirked. “The book that has caused the uproar in the valley. Must be some book,” he added. “Everyone wants to read it now.”

“Mother said she wants to put it somewhere safe,” explained Arwen. “She wanted me to tell you that she is going to visit tomorrow and get it, if you would allow that.”

Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged a quiet look. “We...”

“…can probably…”

“…let her have it…”

“…the day after tomorrow.”

Elladan glanced between Glorfindel and Erestor. “That was weird.”

“Reminded me of mother and father,” agreed Elrohir.

“More like grandmother and grandfather,” decided Elladan.

Arwen stepped closer and peered at Glorfindel. “Glorfindel, what happened to your neck?”

“What?” Glorfindel turned his head again and gave Erestor a quizzical look. “What is she talking about?”

“Centipede,” answered Erestor as he approached Glorfindel and tugged on his collar in an attempt to conceal the marks on his flesh. “We have a terrible problem with them down here. They just bite everything they get near. Nasty things. Thank you for the delivery,” he added as he finally just stepped in front of Glorfindel to block him from the curious trio of peredhel. “Please, let your mother know that she may pick up the book in two days’ time. Thank you for the visit. I am sure you have matters to attend to. No need to rouse your father’s suspicions,” he added.

“Alright.” Arwen frowned, but she stooped down to pick up the tray. She was followed up the steps by Elrohir after he gave a silent wave. 

Elladan lingered after his siblings disappeared out of sight. “Centipedes, Erestor? Must be a pretty big centipede to make a mark like that.”

“Very big fucking centipedes, Elladan,” he replied with a straight face.

“Uh-huh.” Elladan took another step closer and lifted the torch. Erestor pointed his chin up, while Glorfindel licked his lips and looked down at the ground. Elladan’s keen sight took in the contents of the cell with greater scrutiny. “Big centipede. About six-two, one-thirty.”

“One thirty-six,” corrected Erestor.

Elladan closed his eyes and shook his head, still smirking, as his siblings called for him. “In that case...” Elladan caught Glorfindel’s gaze. “Enjoy your centipede hunt.” Elladan gave them a wink before he turned around. He slowly climbed the stairs as he called to his brother and sister that he was on his way.

Erestor held his stance until the door was shut and locked. When he turned, he found Glorfindel standing directly behind him. “Shall we look over the list? I think we may have fulfilled a few of the items already.”

“What was all of that about?” asked Glorfindel.

“Oh, Elladan just likes to chat when we see each other.” Erestor tried to walk around Glorfindel, but he was blocked again.

“He is the one who taught you how to swear. I am right, am I not?” pressed Glorfindel.

Erestor opened his mouth, and then closed it as he looked to the ceiling and formulated his answer. “I like to learn things.”

“So you had Elladan teach you – and where did he learn it from?”

“Where do most children learn that language? Their parents,” Erestor informed Glorfindel. 

Glorfindel crossed his arms over his chest. “You want me to believe Elrond uses language like that?”

“No. I want you to believe Celebrian does. Because she does. She probably learned it from her father,” he added as he crossed his own arms. “And, excuse me, but I know I have heard you use some of that language in the past. Last night, in fact.”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” acknowledged Glorfindel. “But how can this sweet face utter words like ‘fuck the horse you rode in on’?” he asked as he lifted his hand and cupped Erestor’s chin.

“Elladan and I are always trading insults like that. That is just how he is. A few weeks ago, you should have heard us when I dropped off his latest book requests. It ended when he told me to go suck an eagle’s cock and we had a debate on whether eagles would have cocks or not.”

Glorfindel sighed. “My word. The youth these days,” he muttered. “Fine. At least tell me what was wrong with my neck.”

Erestor lifted his brow. “Alright.” He walked to where the water pitcher was situated. Beside it were the comb and the mirror, and he brought the mirror with him. “Here.”

The mirror was held up and Glorfindel turned his head. He grabbed the mirror from Erestor’s grasp a moment later and pulled his own collar down to get a better look. “Oh, fuck! Erestor, why did you not tell me about this?”

“I did not notice it earlier,” conceded Erestor. “It is very dark down here; I only realized when Arwen mentioned it. Damn centipedes,” he added.

Glorfindel lowered the mirror and glared at Erestor. Erestor pursed his lips and looked down his nose at Glorfindel. When Glorfindel did not reply, Erestor gave the smallest smile and batted his eyelashes. Glorfindel promptly burst out laughing, and Erestor soon joined him. “Dammit,” was all he managed as he shoved the mirror back into Erestor’s hand and walked to where the piles of books awaited him.


	19. You Are Not Permitted to Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening, darlings. I hope you've been enjoying the story - I suppose you would not be reading this part if you hated it. A short chapter for tonight, but I blame the pneumonia and the snow. Yes, snow. There is snow on my lawn. I suppose this way I am not terribly upset about the pneumonia keeping me from working on the lawn.
> 
> We are fast approaching the 50K mark, which I thought would be a lovely place to make things more exciting. Since the first 50K has barely been a challenge, I built one into this chapter. It is something like the 'choose your own adventures' of long ago. More about it when we get to the end so that I do not spoiler it... on with the main event.

Glorfindel looked over each of the books in the pile nearest to him in turn, while Erestor concentrated on the first one he had picked up. “Which one is that?” asked Glorfindel as he pulled the second pile closer. 

Erestor was on the third page, but he looked up. “Kinn-lai: People of the Forest.” He furrowed his brow as he caught sight of one of the items in the first pile. “What book is that? The really big one on the bottom, with the tan binding?”

“I think you know,” answered Glorfindel as he checked over the other books that had been delivered.

Erestor squinted, and then stiffened. “You did not say anything about having Celebrian retrieve that book for you.”

“Slipped my mind,” murmured Glorfindel.

“You really do not need to read it.” Erestor scooted closer so that he was sitting on the other side of the pile from Glorfindel. “We have a lot of material here already. There is the other book to contend with, and all of this research. I can just ask Celebrian to take it back when she comes for the little red one,” he suggested as he tried to lift the other books from it. Glorfindel did not look up, but he reached around and pulled the pile closer so that it was pressed against him. “Glorfindel...”

“What I really want to read is ‘The Definitive Guide to the Life of Erestor’, but ‘The Definitive Guide to the Life of Glorfindel the Great of Gondolin’ shall suffice.”

Erestor pouted and drew his legs up to hugs his knees. Slowly his right hand crept up and began to play with the pendant. “I will die if you read that. I will just die.”

“I doubt it very much.” Glorfindel turned to the introduction of a small volume on Avarin customs.

Erestor fanned his face with his hand. “I never really edited it,” he said in an attempt to gain access to the volume. “Let me go through it first, and then you can read it. I think you will be much happier that way.” He reached out for it again, but Glorfindel caught his wrist and held fast.

“No, thank you. I am sure any misspellings or typographical errors will be minor.” He lifted Erestor’s hand and kissed his palm without looking up from his reading. “And charming.”

With a frustrated sigh, Erestor pulled his hand away. He stood up and brushed off his robes before he went to retrieve the list. He sat down on the edge of the mattress to read through it before he meticulously began to collect items from various parts of the room. Most of them were out of the small basket Glorfindel brought, and all of them were assembled on the bed in a very precise manner. When he was finished, he took ink and parchment and made another list. This one he wrote in Avarin, and did so with such a smug look on his face that Glorfindel, whom he knew was observing everything despite pretending to read, discarded the books and came to the bed. 

“Are you going to tell me what all this is about?”

“I thought I might show you instead,” offered Erestor. He gathered everything up again and placed it into an empty pillow case. This was set beside the bed. “This is the list of the things we still need to test from the book. Spanking and begging have been covered, so I did not include them. Besides, those were rather tame.”

“What language is that? I sort of understand some of it,” said Glorfindel, but the list was removed from his sight. “Is that Avarin?”

“Yes. Stop peeking. I am going to let you choose what we try next,” said Erestor. 

“How generous. If only I could read what you wrote.” Glorfindel tried to peer over to see it, but the list was flipped over.

“There is no need for you to see the list.” Erestor patted the mattress, and Glorfindel acquiesced and settled down. “I am going to let you choose at random. I thought we could get started now, have lunch when it arrives, and see where we go from there.”

“That sounds adventurous.”

Erestor smiled and leaned in to nibble on Glorfindel’s ear. “Want to make it even more adventurous?”

A smile emerged. “Yes,” replied Glorfindel.

“I will be right back.” Erestor shifted to kiss Glorfindel before he stood and crossed the room. Off to the side of the bars were the manacles from the first day, when they were both brought to the dungeon. Erestor picked up one of the chains that had been used to link them together and dragged it across the room so that Glorfindel could hear it. “I realized just a little while ago that we do not actually need any rope.”

Glorfindel stretched his arms over his head and arched his back as he groaned. “But what are you going to chain me to?”

“Nothing. Nothing at the moment.” Erestor seized one of Glorfindel’s wrists and began to wind the chain around it. Glorfindel offered the other willingly, and after binding them together with the links of metal, Erestor tugged on both ends of the chain to remove any slack before he dropped the chain to the ground. “That should be enough for now,” he decided. “Now, I need you to pick a number between one and ten.”

“Two.” 

“Excellent choice. Oh, I also thought this might be a fun addition,” Erestor said as he pulled a strip of cloth from the sack of miscellany. “I recall that often in the book, a blindfold was used.”

Glorfindel struggled to lift his head up and allowed the cloth to be situated over his eyes. “Should I have undressed first?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I can take care of that.” Erestor pulled something else from the sack and then efficiently untied the lacings on Glorfindel’s shirt. It was pushed down, but not off, exposing his chest but not his stomach. “I will be asking questions and taking notes if you do not mind. I want to make sure that the record I submit is accurate.”

“Alright,” agreed Glorfindel. He squirmed a little, but tried to stay relatively still. “Tell me if you need me to do anything.”

“I will let you know.” Erestor considered the text of the book and reached out to pinch Glorfindel’s left nipple. He barely needed to manipulate it before it was perked into a hard nub. The right side took less time. “Very good,” he commended. “I shall now introduce the implements you have chosen for this part of the study.” Erestor picked up something from the bed. A moment later, he was adjusting the pert flesh of Glorfindel’s left nipple between two pieces of metal before he tightened the tiny device. “Is this of Elven make?” he asked casually as he slowly turned the screw.

“It came from Tol Eressea. I would have to assume so.” Glorfindel’s voice was strained. He tested his bonds and shifted his arms. He hissed a little as the chain bit into his skin.

Erestor pretended not to notice by not commenting on Glorfindel’s fidgeting. Instead, he pulled on the clamp to test how well it held the skin. “This seems to have different settings. I will work up to the highest, but do tell me if we need to stop.”

Glorfindel trembled a bit as the metal was tightened snugly onto his flesh. Erestor had to pinch the other side again once he finished with the first. He gave the tiny bud a little experimental twist, and was pleased with Glorfindel’s reaction. Glorfindel barely made a sound when the first clamp was affixed to him, but the second one made him grunt. “That one seems tighter,” he remarked.

Erestor leaned down to check them and adjusted them both. “Does that seem equal now?”

A nod was given and the chains clinked against ground and each other. “Better,” Glorfindel gasped. At some point, he had bent his knees and parted his legs. His pelvis was moving on its own accord, and he continued to make a variety of noises.

A fresh sheet of parchment was retrieved, and Erestor began to write. “How are you feeling?” He made sure to dig the nib into the page and tap the excess ink off against the side of the bottle. There was no question as to what Erestor was doing, if Glorfindel was listening.

“Well... obviously, it stings a little, but it is not unbearable. It is causing some rather favorable feelings elsewhere,” supplied Glorfindel.

Erestor wrote these things slowly before he asked, “Shall we continue?” Glorfindel nodded, and Erestor reached down to tighten the clamps. “This appears to be the midway point. Your skin is darkening,” observed Erestor.

“Yes, that happens.” There was a growing bulge at Glorfindel’s groin, and he wriggled about to try to gain relief against the tightly laced leggings. 

“What about elsewhere? Are you feeling any strain here?” Erestor turned the quill around to use the feathers against Glorfindel’s skin. He circled around the clamped nipple, causing Glorfindel to shiver at the light touches. “Or here?” Erestor continued to draw the soft feather around the other side. 

“Y-yes.” Glorfindel swallowed hard. “The feelings are not limited just to that spot.” He licked his lips and pauses to catch his breath. “They shoot through the body, like sparks of pain that become pleasure. Or, pain that is pleasure.”

“It would seem you like it when it hurts.”

Glorfindel groaned. “Guilty,” he admitted in a whisper.

Erestor took a few deep breaths to calm his own libido. “This is the highest setting, it seems,” he said very professionally as he tightened the clamps completely. “Give it a moment, and then, tell me how you are feeling.”

“Certainly more intense,” was the almost immediate reply. “I am still... more than capable… I can withstand more, Erestor.” Glorfindel’s legs were further apart, and his movements were strained. Erestor seemed to realize that he was rubbing against the inside of his leggings, and so they were unlaced to take away the friction. Erestor pulled Glorfindel’s loincloth down as well, which left him exposed and untouched. “Oh, you bastard,” growled Glorfindel.

“You are not permitted to touch,” admonished Erestor sharply.

Glorfindel winced. “Why not?”

“It will affect the results of the study. Shall we continue forward?” Erestor reached down and took hold of the clamp on Glorfindel’s left nipple. “I would like you to tell me what your opinions are on this.”

The metal in Erestor’s fingers was turned sharply at ninety degrees. Glorfindel cried out. The metal was released, but a moment later, was jerked in the opposite direction. “Any change in sensation?”

“Erestor, please… this is so good, but I need you to touch me.”

“As I already stated, we covered begging in the last series of tests.” Erestor took hold of the other clamp and slowly twisted it, this time, almost a half turn, and held it. “How does that feel?”

Glorfindel whimpered and tried again to find some relief for his erection. “You sure you never did this before?” was all he said before the clamp was twisted back the other way and he grunted.

Erestor took a moment to enjoy the view before he resumed his ‘study’. “This next part may be intense. If you need to stop, let me know.” He took hold of both clamps and slowly pulled them straight up. The flesh they were attached to was stretched, and Erestor began to twist to one side and then the other, and pull and turn and play with them. 

Glorfindel’s head thrashed to one side as he moaned, to the other as he cried out, and finally he tilted it back and gasped several times as he released onto the lower part of his shirt. The blindfold has slipped from one eye and he looked at Erestor. “Definitely intense.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” asked Erestor as he let go of the clamps to pick up his page of notes. “More importantly, do you believe that this activity could be engaged in safely by those who are participating in a passionate situation?”

“Oh, fuck. Still in character. Yes and yes, and can you take these off now, you sadistic scholar? They are just hurting, and this part I am not enjoying anymore.” Glorfindel hissed as the clamps were removed. “I am not sure what was better, the stimulation, or you running this like an experiment.”

“I love that you enjoy letting me be in control.” Erestor carefully added a few more notes before he unchained Glorfindel’s wrists, and finally, removed the blindfold. “That actually went much faster than I thought it would.”

“You sort of made it go much faster,” commented Glorfindel. “You just rushed from one part to the next, and usually, there would be kissing or cuddling or begging or something in between.”

Erestor took up the quill again and wrote something else down. “So, better pacing next time.”

Glorfindel sat up and ran his hands through his hair. “Would you mind retrieving a damp cloth for me?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Erestor set the notes aside and tended to Glorfindel. The shirt was too soiled now, so Erestor carefully rolled up the lower part before he helped Glorfindel to take it off. “Do they still hurt?”

“They are very sensitive right now,” confirmed Glorfindel. He swallowed hard as Erestor reached out and swirled his fingers over Glorfindel’s chest before he pinched at the dark nubs. “Quite the fascination you have there.”

“Mmm… I like how they look,” complimented Erestor.

“You like nipples and long hair; you abhor penises. You sure you like men?” questioned Glorfindel.

“I like you,” Erestor answered before he dipped his head down, suckled at the flesh and soothed it with his tongue, and then bit it to harden it again.

Glorfindel arched his back again and grasped Erestor’s shoulders as he cried out his lover’s name. “Works for me,” he panted as Erestor moved to the other side.

Erestor sat back, but his hands remained on Glorfindel’s chest, kneading, caressing, and exploring the way toned muscles determined the landscape. “Since I rushed through that first part, I think we have time for another before lunch. Want to pick another number?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. So good to see you again, reader. It seems Glorfindel had no trouble picking the first number, but I would like to give you a chance to help him pick the next number. I was going to embed a poll, but I just couldn't figure out how to do it, darlings. Besides, probably better if I go write more instead, no? Feel free to leave your suggestion (1 - 10, but 2 was already taken) in the comments or email me (zhiester@gmail.com) with your suggestion at which number should be next. I would show you the list, but Erestor seems fairly certain that none of the readers know Avarin. 
> 
> So, what will it be, darlings? Want to pick another number?
> 
> 4/16 update: [Numbers picked so far - in order: 7 - 4 - 9 - 3]


	20. Stains

“Seven is supposed to be a lucky number.” Glorfindel kept his hands on Erestor’s shoulders as Erestor continued to massage his chest. “But only if you really think we have enough time before lunch.”

Erestor slid his hands around to Glorfindel’s back and pulled him closer in order to kiss him before he reluctantly let go and retrieved the overturned sheet that had slipped onto the floor. “Number seven. Oh, yes, this was the one I was a little uncertain about.”

“Do I get to guess what it is?” asked Glorfindel.

“I can just tell you,” offered Erestor. “This has to do with the part of the book where Fanmir uses the leatherworking needle to pierce different parts of Arborn’s body while he has him strung up in the shed he uses for crafting. The trouble is, we have no needles. Even if we did, there is nothing to be used to clean the wounds, not to mention we are fresh out of jewelers here in the underground.”

“We can be creative,” offered Glorfindel. “And, thanks to Arwen, we have enough alcohol down here that we can use as disinfectant.”

Erestor smirked. “You sound awfully excited about this idea.”

“I may have had a few piercings back in Gondolin.”

“You still have a few,” remarked Erestor as he pulled on one of Glorfindel’s ears. Since Glorfindel had been on duty when they were locked up, there were no adornments, but it was evident to Erestor that in his off hours Glorfindel probably blended in well with the bejeweled Noldor of the valley.

“Those are tame. You should have seen me in Gondolin.”

“Alright, then. Tell me about Gondolin.” Erestor lounged on the bed but continued to lazily touch Glofindel’s chest. “Did your King like to decorate you?”

“You have no idea.” Glorfindel tilted his head and began to reminisce. “I had my own House, my own resources and wealth there, as you likely know. Even so, he provided for me well beyond my needs and desires. The mere hint of something, and a gift would arrive. My jewels alone looked like a dragon’s hoard. Emeralds, beryls, diamonds, and everything was set in gold. In battle I wore armor, and in court it was leather and brocade, but in my home, the finest silks and most delicately woven fabrics were the core of my wardrobe.”

“It must have been difficult for the two of you to find the time to spend together, not to mention a place where no one would hear or see,” commented Erestor.

“He always made sure that we had time if he was going to spend the night with me. His schedule was busier than mine was, so everything would be set for me when I arrived. I suspect he must have come in the afternoon and set it out himself. He had keys to all of the houses, so he could come and go as he pleased.”

“Wait. He would meet you at your house? None of your staff questioned when he arrived at your house?” wondered Erestor. “I would expect that there would be much discussion if the King showed up.”

Glorfindel tilted his head. “No. He came over very often. Once or twice a month when he was busy, but often once a week or more. Everyone was used to him. The House of the Golden Flower was close to the King’s Tower.”

“’Everyone’, from what I have read, would be somewhere in the neighborhood of twelve hundred people for your House.”

“About that,” confirmed Glorfindel. 

“I have also seen sketches of what your House looked like inside. There was a marble staircase that curved upwards, three stories, on either side. At the top was a balcony that overlooked the foyer, and it was at that level that one would enter into The Master’s Chamber, which I would assume was your room.”

“That was what the house looked like when someone entered through the main doors,” answered Glorfindel with a nod. Erestor started laughing. “What?” Erestor laughed harder and rolled onto his side to try to hide his mirth from Glorfindel. His back was to the blond, and yet, he covered his mouth to muffle the noise. “Erestor – what is so amusing?” Glorfindel was smiling now, without knowing quite why.

“What do you think people thought the King was doing in your room? Especially when you were not there?” Erestor rolled back over again, but he was still smiling.

The smile faded on Glorfindel’s fair face. “They must not have cared. No one ever asked.”

“Glorfindel.” Erestor placed a hand on his shoulder. “Glorfindel, if people saw him going into your room—“

“They would have seen him going into my suite. Not my room,” Glorfindel correctly sharply. “What, you think everyone in my House knew what was going on?”

Erestor sobered from Glorfindel’s tone. “Sorry. Glorfindel, I just—“ He sighed as Glorfindel pushed himself up and walked away. Erestor pinched the bridge of his nose and then rubbed his forehead. “Rivendell has, what, four hundred and eighty or so permanent residents, and another two hundred to three hundred visitors at any given time. Typically, everyone knows, more or less, what is going on with Elrond on any given day. In your case, you were the central figure for your House. Add to that the King coming in once or twice a month at least, first when you are not in, and then I suspect he came back later?”

“Yes,” answered Glorfindel. He was near the little food store they had, opening one of the bottles of wine. 

“Alright, well, if I was living in your House at the time, I would suspect that you and the King were involved in something beyond politics. Especially after the second time he stayed the night.”

Glorfindel sauntered over as he drank directly from the bottle. “If you were in my House,” he said as he pointed the mouth of the bottle in Erestor’s direction, “the King would not be in my quarters.”

Erestor licked his lips as he smiled and watched Glorfindel take another long drink. “Are we becoming a little possessive, my Lord?”

“Here.” Glofindel did not answer the question. Instead, he held the bottle down to Erestor.

“No, thank you,” said Erestor. “We already established I am—“

“Are you going to make me drink alone?”

Erestor craned his neck to look up at Glorfindel. He studied Glorfindel a moment before he lifted a hand up and took hold of the bottle. “Did you pick a good year?”

“I picked the one that looked like it would get me drunk fastest.”

“Fair enough.” Erestor lifted the bottle to his lips. “If I get sick, I am going to make you sleep on the floor.”

Glorfindel plopped down on the mattress while Erestor took a small sip from the bottle. “Oh, come on.”

Erestor was about to hand the bottle back again. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Glorfindel. “Fine.” He took a deep breath before he lifted the bottle back again. He drank until he squeezed his eyes closed, and then he drank a little more. “There. Happy?” he asked with a gasp as he passed the bottle back.

“It is a start.” Glorfindel took another swig. “If anyone knew what was going on, no one said anything.”

“Alright, alright. Sorry that I brought it up,” apologized Erestor.

The bottle was half empty, and Glorfindel drank again before he passed it back to Erestor. “When I would arrive home, I would be informed by the butler that the King had stopped in earlier. That alerted me that I should bathe early and have dinner sent to the room. When I finished my bath, I would comb and dry my hair. If it was warm enough, I would sit on my private outdoor balcony. I had a light dinner when it arrived. Usually, I was just too excited to eat very much. I left most of the food for him.”

Erestor listened to Glorfindel tell the tale. Occasionally, he took another sip from the bottle. The taste was not to his liking, but it was almost soothing like tea. He found he was very much missing his tea at the moment, so he drank again before he passed the bottle back.

“I made sure I was dressed when he arrived. When he first started to see me, we did not have much of a plan or arrangement, but as the years passed, there were certain expectations he had. My hair was never to be pulled back; I had to leave it loose. I was expected to wear long, flowing robes, nothing particularly practical, but they were lovely and soft.” His cheeks were tinted, and he took another drink from the bottle. He lowered the volume of his voice, and Erestor had to lean closer to hear him. “The hardest part was the corset. He helped me with it at first, but he was so proud the day he arrived and found that I learned how to put it on without assistance.”

“A corset?” Erestor took the bottle back. “I think I can guess the rest. He dressed you up, had you speak softly or not at all, made you look like your sister. Like his wife.”

Glorfindel bowed his head. “I told you, it was not love. I did not care, though, Erestor. He got what he needed, and I got what I needed.”

Erestor sighed and tilted the bottle back to drink the rest of the wine. “I suppose, in those days, that was all that mattered.” He had not meant to sound bitter, but it came out that way. “So what else did he do to you?” 

“Nothing that I did not allow him to.” The bite was back in Glorfindel’s voice. He stood up to retrieve another bottle of wine. “There were many happy moments that we shared,” he announced as he selected one of the bottles from the row on the floor. “I remember those nights fondly. I had never felt so good before. He knew just how to touch me.”

“Did he?”

Glorfindel popped the cork out of the bottle and tossed it over his shoulder before he took a swig of the wine. “Jealous?” he hissed.

Erestor stood up in one fluid motion. He narrowed his eyes at Glorfindel until the blond swallowed and darted his gaze elsewhere. “Jealousy is for amateurs,” said Erestor as he slowly approached, feet unseen beneath the robes so that he appeared to simply float across the floor to where Glorfindel stood. The bottle was taken from Glorfindel’s hand and Erestor sampled the drink before he threw the bottle to the back of the cell, where the sound of it smashing causing Glorfindel to flinch. “Bed,” demanded Erestor, and while Glorfindel groaned and gave him a defiant look, he crossed the distance to the mattress without hesitation.

“Why would I be jealous?” wondered Erestor as he circled around the bed. Glorfindel was beginning to sit down, but when Erestor barked out, “Kneel!” Glorfindel was on his knees instantly. “He trained you well. It saves me time.”

Erestor climbed up onto the mattress and took hold of Glorfindel hair at the back of his neck. “If I was in Gondolin,” he said quietly as he pulled Glorfindel’s head back, “I would not have made you pretend to be someone you were not. I would have taken you as you are.”

“Then take me,” begged Glorfindel.

Erestor ran his hand through the thick golden locks. “Soon,” he promised. “We have other matters to tend to first. Such as, lucky number seven. I was mulling that over while you were talking. I think I know how to be creative,” he said as he let go of Glorfindel to retrieve the pillowcase from the side of the bed.

Glofindel shivered as he watched Erestor dig through the sack. A candle was taken from it, but nothing else. He continued to watch Erestor move around the cell. A bottle of white wine was selected and brought along with the corkscrew to the bed, where they were set near Glorfindel before Erestor moved to where the pitcher of water was kept. The bottle rolled towards Glorfindel and rested next to his knee as Erestor picked three of the clean cloths, and the two quills nearby. All of these were brought back, and Erestor set up the various items methodically on the floor beside the mattress. “I would have asked for you to remove your shirt, but that has already been taken care of,” said Erestor as he picked up the bottle of wine and worked the corkscrew into the stopper. “I brought the white wine because I would not want the red to be confused with the blood. Are you amiable to this?”

“I might be well trained, but you need some work,” answered Glorfindel cheekily. “You are supposed to tell me what you are going to do to me, not ask my permission.”

Erestor smiled in a way that made Glorfindel shiver again as he worked the corkscrew back and forth. “I just like to make you think you have a choice in the matter. In reality, I am going to make you bleed, scream, and thank me for it.” The cork popped out of the bottle and Erestor set the open bottle aside. “Now, let me see. I need you to be steady, but I do not want you flat on your back. Ah. I know.” Erestor pushed on Glorfindel’s shoulder with his free hand. Still on his knees, Glorfindel leaned back but braced himself on either side with his hands without thinking. “Very nice,” complimented Erestor, who now had full access to Glorfindel’s angled torso.

The cork was twisted loose and Erestor lifted it up to Glorfindel’s nose. “Nice fragrance,” Erestor complimented as he waved the cork to waft the scent.

“Moscato,” Glorfindel informed him as he tried to adjust his position a little.

“Nice.” Erestor drew the cork over Glorfindel’s lips. “Open,” he instructed, and while Glorfindel’s movement showed no hesitation, his eyes did. “Wider. Now bite down,” he said once he had the cork between Glorfindel’s teeth. The cork was long and it was too far out so that it kept Glorfindel’s lips parted as well. “Just hold onto that for me for a moment.”

The pointed tip of the corkscrew was placed under Glorfindel’s chin. “I wonder...” Erestor traced a curled line not unlike the shape of the metal down Glorfindel’s chest. A mark was left in its wake, disappearing a few seconds later. Erestor stopped midway and moved the point just beneath Glorfindel’s left nipple. He pushed in slightly and lifted it up, pulling at the tender flesh that was beginning to harden again. “Is that still sensitive?”

Glorfindel winced and nodded.

“Poor thing. I bet this hurts,” Erestor said as he traced around the nipple, scratching the surface of Glorfindel’s skin. Glorfindel nodded again, and Erestor expanded the radius until he was able to switch directions wind a circle around the other side, tighter and tighter, until he was digging the tip in against the outline of the other nipple. “Did Turgon ever pierce you here?” he asked as he poked the end of the corkscrew into the underside of the right nipple and lifted up. With arms trembling and struggling to keep him balanced, Glorfindel nodded. “I bet you liked that.” Another nod.

Erestor repositioned the sharp metal tip and continued his path down Glorfindel’s stomach. When he reached his navel, Erestor hooked the end of the corkscrew just within the indentation and pulled up and forward. “Did he ever pierce you here?” When Glorfindel shook his head, Erestor looked rather smug. “I was beginning to think he had beaten me to everything.” 

The handle of the corkscrew was turned one way and then the other just enough to make Glorfindel grunt – a noise that was a little peculiar with the cork still held between his teeth. “Do you think I could do it with this?” asked Erestor. Glorfindel closed his eyes and groaned. “You want me to, I think.” A slow nod, but this time Glorfindel leaned his head back, his throat further exposed. “Nothing to dull the pain. This is going to be excruciating. Good thing you have something to bite down on.” Glorfindel whimpered.

“Let me mark the skin first. I would hate to make a mistake and have it off to the side.” Erestor lowered the corkscrew and set it aside. Glorfindel tilted his head back up and opened his eyes to see Erestor picking up one of the quills. The scholar pricked at his finger with it before he set it down and pricked with the other one. He found it was more to his liking as a drop of blood welled up. Erestor lifted it up and situated himself in front of Glorfindel. “I seem to have forgotten the ink, so I think this will do.” He slid the tip of the quill into the blood on the pad of his own finger. Lowering it out of Glorfindel’s sight, Erestor scraped it along Glorfindel’s skin, nicking it open. 

Glorfindel arched his back and bit down harder on the cork as he let out noise of mingled pain and pleasure. “Shhh... just a little prick,” said Erestor in a hushed voice. “You do not want to alarm the guards.” Erestor examined the quill again. “Who knew that the pen could be mightier than the sword,” he cooed before he crouched down, pinched Glorfindel’s skin, and jabbed the tip of the quill through. Glorfindel nearly bit the cork in half, and Erestor picked up the bottle of wine. “I really should have cleaned that first,” he scolded himself before he took a drink from the bottle.

As Glorfindel panted heavily and displayed his needful desires from the bulged leggings again, Erestor grabbed one of the clean cloths. He tucked it into the front of Glorfindel’s leggings to save them from the stain of the blood that was running slowly down toward his groin. Erestor then bowed his head. His mouth was still full of wine, and he opened his lips just enough for it to stream out and over the wound from the quill, which was embedded now in Glorfindel’s flesh, blood hanging from the end as if ready to scribe a very interesting letter. The pain was intensified from the burn of the alcohol, and Glorfindel’s body strained and trembled. “We are just getting started,” chided Erestor after he swallowed the rest of the wine. 

Glorfindel struggled to swallow without dislodging the cork. He arched his back again when Erestor turned the quill a little. “So sensitive,” Erestor teased before he licked the wound. Glorfindel let out another pained sound. The bottle of wine was lifted up and Erestor dribbled some down on the wound. It splashed and ran down with the blood, turning the stain on the cloth pink.

“Would you like a drink?” asked Erestor. Glorfindel nodded. Erestor moved so that he was beside Glorfindel. He started to reach out to take the cork, but changed his mind and leaned in to take hold of it with his own teeth. When he had it, Erestor turned his head to the side and spit it onto the nearby pillow while Glorfindel groaned. “Here.” Erestor lifted the bottle up to Glorfindel’s lips and tilted it. “Better?” he asked when he lowered the bottle again.

“Have I told you how amazing you are?” asked Glorfindel.

“You may have, but feel free to tell me again.” Erestor leaned across the mattress to set the bottle on the ground. He retrieved the cork and the corkscrew on his way back. “Ready for more?”

Glorfindel nodded.

“Here. Hold this again.” Erestor lifted up the cork, and Glorfindel did not need to be prompted this time. Erestor set the corkscrew down carefully on Glorfindel’s chest, and with the way he was tilted, it did not slide off his body. “That, too. Thank you.” 

Glorfindel tried to move his head to see what Erestor was up to, but Erestor had his back to Glorfindel, and the robes he wore helped to create quite the barrier. The candle was lit, but there was something else going on, because now and then Erestor would hiss or move things around as he worked on something. After many minutes more than he expected to work on it, he seemed somewhat satisfied with his efforts. “I might not win any awards in Tirion, but I am pretty proud of my amateur attempts.”

Erestor turned back around, but whatever he was referring to was out of Glorfindel’s vision. The first he knew of anything going on was when Erestor took hold of the quill and yanked it back out. Glorfindel whimpered as he clamped down on the cork. A moment later he felt something being worked into the void. It was smooth and warm, and it took Glorfindel a moment to realize that Erestor has made some sort of jewelry from the wax drippings of the candle. “This will have to do until we can get something proper,” explained Erestor. There was blood on his fingers when he finished, so he sat up to lick them off in sight of Glorfindel. “Now, where did I put that corkscrew...”

Unable to answer with his voice, Glorfindel gave a nod of his head down at his chest. Erestor smiled and picked it up from where it had been discarded. “How are you holding up?” he asked as he moved again so that he was at Glorfindel’s side once more. Erestor waited a moment as he watched and listened to Glorfindel struggle to answer before he pinched the cork and plucked it out of Glorfindel’s mouth. “Sorry, I could barely understand you with this thing.”

“If this is what you will do to me while we are still courting, I look forward to your antics after we are bound.”

“Antics? Research,” corrected Erestor. “And from what I remember, you are the one who wants to be bound.”

“In that case, I look forward to your research on bondage.”

“As do I.” Erestor tossed the cork in the air and caught it again. “One experiment at a time, dearest.” He transferred the cork and the corkscrew to the opposite hands. “As you may have figured out, I have solved one problem, but I have created another. I cannot seem to make the wax thin enough without breaking it, and the holes in your ears are rather tiny, so I am just going to help with that a bit,” he said in a very caring tone.

Glorfindel moaned deeply as the tip of the corkscrew dipped into the tiny dip in his lobe. The cork was positioned on the other side when the shiny tip poked out. Erestor carefully pressed the cork against the back side of Glorfindel’s earlobe, and then began to turn the corkscrew slowly. As the metal found the groove that was already in the cork, it pushed through the skin and widened the hole, stretching and tearing. Blood stained the metal and cork and was smeared on Glorfindel’s skin. Erestor turned the corkscrew all the way until the wooden handle was pressed awkwardly against Glorfindel’s cheek, and then he let go and let the cork and embedded corkscrew hang and pull at the already injured piercing.

“If only we had another corkscrew. I could do them both at the same time.” Erestor left for only a moment and returned with the wine and another cloth. He held the cloth under Glorfindel’s bleeding ear and poured the alcohol over it. Glorfindel gritted his teeth and hissed. “This is taking a long time. Perhaps I should have used the quill on your ears, too,” said Erestor. Glorfindel groaned. “Yes, well, not this time. I would not want them to be uneven.” 

Erestor lifted the bottle up for Glorfindel to drink again, and then took another nip himself. He set the bottle back before he slowly worked the corkscrew out again. The hole was not much bigger than it had been, but it was enough now for Erestor to work in the thin wax rod he had created. He had to warm it again to make it malleable, but once it was, he pushed it in through Glorfindel’s lobe, and then curved it around to shape it into a hoop with an open end. “I suppose I could get fancy and seal it later with more wax.”

Glorfindel trembled as Erestor moved around to the other side and repeated the procedure on his other ear. “I think I should probably keep my day job, but those could have turned out much worse,” decided Erestor as he took hold of Glorfindel’s head and turned it from side to side to admire his own work.

“Erestor,” whimpered Glorfindel, “you are going to make me explode, and I am quickly running out of clothing.”

“Oh, would you like some help with these?” The bleeding from Glorfindel’s navel had stopped, so Erestor pulled the cloth from his legging and tossed it aside. Erestor wound a finger around an end of one of the laces. “Or did you just want to inform me of that fact?”

“Erestor, please.” Glorfindel almost sounded as if he was crying. “I do not know how much longer I can hold this position. My muscles are aching, and... I really need relief. From all of it.”

“Hmm. Well, you have been awfully good today.” Erestor pulled one of the laces straight up in the air very slowly. As soon as it pulled free of the knot, he pulled the other one out of the way and hooked a finger into the first crisscross of the laces to loosen them a little. Glorfindel moaned as he was given room, and from the light brush of Erestor’s fingers across the fabric of his loincloth. “Actually, you already released once today. I think I deserve a little something first.”

“Please, Erestor, I promise I will do anything you want if you just let me,” whined Glorfindel as Erestor moved his hand away.

“I have a better idea,” said Erestor. He reached out for the lacings again and pulled them loose enough so that he could tug the leggings down to Glorfindel’s thighs. The loincloth was next, and Erestor picked up the third cloth, positioning it to protect Glorfindel’s clothing. “Try not to aim elsewhere,” he suggested. 

“No promises,” answered Glorfindel with a groan as he watched Erestor remove his heavy outer robe. The rest of the clothing remained as Erestor lifted his inner robe up to his waist and straddled Glorfindel’s chest. “What are you—“

“Remember the practice you had with the cork?” asked Erestor as he held the robe off to the side, bunched up in one hand. His other hand first positioned his erection so that the tip brushed against Glorfindel’s lips, and then dug into the blond curls at the back of Glorfindel’s head. “No biting,” he advised as he pulled Glorfindel’s head forward and eased his hips closer.

Glorfindel willingly parted his lips and let Erestor set the pace and depth. It was nothing that Glorfindel could not keep up with, so he relaxed his throat and welcomed the thrusts. Somehow, Erestor managed to keep his robes to the side with his arm or his elbow while his other hand crept behind and stretched to grab hold of Glorfindel’s bobbing length. This unexpected maneuver made Glorfindel cry out, unheard, yet felt by Erestor. “Again,” he gasped as he squeezed Glorfindel and was rewarded with the vibrations from the back of Glorfindel’s throat.

It was difficult to tell which of them climaxed first, and afterwards, it was difficult to find clothing that was not stained with blood, semen, or something unidentifiable. In the end, Erestor went without the inner robe, which no one could actually see with the outer robe on anyhow, and Glorfindel gladly put on the shirt that he was offered from Erestor’s ensemble, though he refused to button the collar all the way up. 

“How can you manage this? I would feel like I was choking all the time,” Glorfindel said as he adjusted the cuffs.

“First, your neck is a little larger than mine. Second, I am used to it. Third, you should be happy it fits at all.”

“Your clothing is really loose,” agreed Glorfindel. “I really wish I could see you in something that fits your figure.”

Erestor laughed as he took a drink from the bottle of moscato. They were resting against the wall, away from the bed which still needed to be cleaned up. “You have seen me naked,” he reminded Glorfindel as he reached over and played with his ear and the wax ring that poked through the lobe. “You just finished sucking on my cock. What else do you want?”

Glorfindel began to tick things off on his fingers. “I want to see you wearing tight leather pants, and nothing else. I want you to fuck me in a waterfall. I want you to tell me you love me.”

“Is that all?” asked Erestor when Glorfindel turned his head and took the bottle of wine. Glorfindel nodded as he drank. Erestor ticked off his own fingers. “No. Maybe. Yes.”

Glorfindel almost choked on the wine. “Yes? When?” he questioned.

“…how about right now?” 

“Oh?” Glorfindel held out the bottle. “Need this first?”

“Nope.” Erestor cleared his throat and leaned closer. He dipped his head and whispered the words against Glorfindel’s ear, then sat back and took hold of the bottle. “How was that?”

There was a ridiculous grin on Glorfindel’s face. “I can happily live without the other two.”


	21. What Happens Behind Bars...

“I have this feeling I am going to be sick later. Logically, there is no way I am not going to be sick later. I am actually surprised I have not been sick so far. How long does it take to feel the adverse effects of drinking?”

“It depends. Maybe a few hours, maybe the next day, maybe not at all.” Glorfindel held his tongue to see if Erestor was going to let loose his again. The scholar did not disappoint.

“The strange thing is I really thought it was going to have more of an effect. I can hardly tell I drank at all. I can walk just fine, and I can think just fine, and other than just a little more courage than I might have had a few hours ago, I more or less seem just like myself. In fact, I really am just myself, without so much worrying as I was doing this morning or yesterday or last week or a month ago. What was the one we drank after the moscato?” he asked as he lathered his hair.

“Malvasia,” replied Glorfindel. He was perched on one of the boulders in the waterfall shower. It had taken him far less time to bathe, and now he was vacillating between watching and listening to Erestor and examining the thin piece of wax that was pierced above his navel. His head was bowed now, so he did not see Erestor approach until after he felt his head being gently butted into, and so he looked up.

“Do we have any more of that one?”

“You liked that one best? If we do not have more, I will make sure to ask Arwen for some.” Glorfindel set his palms flat on his rock perch and leaned forward to kiss Erestor. “A whole barrel if you like.”

“I especially like to hear you say it. Oh, drinking it is fine,” said Erestor quickly, “but what I enjoy more is hearing you say the names.”

This made Glorfindel grin. “You like to hear me say the names of the wines,” he repeated to be certain.

Erestor nodded.

“Like... moscato.”

“No, the other one.”

“Malvasia,” said Glorfindel slowly. Erestor gave a little snortle. Glorfindel laughed. “What was that?” he questioned as Erestor turned away and looked for the soap. “Malvasia,” he tried, but this time Erestor had his lips pressed tightly together. “Oh, no fair, how dare you start to sober up now,” he complained. He lowered himself down from his perch. “Need some help with your back?” he offered.

“I have time to take care of it,” answered Erestor. “Are there other wines like Moscato and Malvasia?”

“There is one called Vouvray you might like. It has a fruity flavor, so it is a little different, but still sweet,” explained Glorfindel.

“That could be interesting. Now that I drink, I suppose I should sample the variety so that I know which ones I like the best. I like Malvasia, but what if I like Voray—“

“Vouvray.”

“—thank you, Vouvray more? The red wine was too bitter for me, but perhaps there are other varieties of red wine that I would like. Anyhow, I—“ Erestor froze as he was standing on one leg, washing his foot, and looked up at Glorfindel. “Oh...”

Glorfindel frowned. “Oh? What, oh?” 

Erestor lowered his leg, stepped one large pace forward so that he was standing before Glorfindel, and held out the soap. “You were not simply asking to be helpful.”

“Asking what?”

“My back.” Erestor slid the soap into Glorfindel’s hand. “I am a little slow at the moment.”

Glorfindel turned the soap over in his hand until he worked up lather. He pressed even closer, chest to chest, groin to groin, the wax shifting to pull on the tender flesh, but he showed no sign of this. The water misted at them as it ricocheted off the natural walls. Glorfindel reached his arms around Erestor and began to rub circles on his back with both hands. The slippery bubbles slid up over Erestor’s shoulders as Glorfindel moved his hands up behind Erestor’s neck, and down the crevice of his backside, down his leg, when Glorfindel moved his hands to Erestor’s lower back. 

Erestor settled his hands on Glorfindel’s hips, as much to steady himself as to make his own sensual contact. “As long as you have the soap, you might want to wash my chest, too.”

“As you wish.” Glorfindel moved his hands around, but he barely parted. As he ran his fingertips along Erestor’s body, his knuckles made contact with his own sensitive flesh. Erestor’s hands moved around, and lower, still clutching.

“I barely washed my stomach.” The words had hardly left Erestor’s lips, and Glorfindel’s hands relocated again, though it was not long before they moved lower. The soap hit the ground and skidded out of their reach. 

“Five minutes!”

The call of the guard startled them both. Soap was retrieved, skin was scrubbed, and just as Glorfindel was about to emerge from the waterfall and search for a towel, he found himself pinned against the wall and unable to see Erestor behind him. “Do not think I have forgotten,” whispered Erestor into his ear. “I just need more than fifteen minutes for it,” he said as he traced the corner of the soap down Glorfindel’s ass. When he rounded the curve of Glorfindel’s flesh, Erestor pressed the slick object forward, found his mark, and wiggled and poked until he had Glorfindel mewling and begging in precious little whispers. “Soon,” Erestor promised as he let the soap slip from his hand before he stepped out of the water.

\+ * + * +

“I am feeling nothing except full.”

They were dry, comfortable, and well-fed. Upon reentering the cell, dinner was brought to them. Glorfindel had convinced the guard that the day had been long and that he and Erestor desired to eat and rest, and that the dishes could be collected in the morning when the breakfast tray was delivered. The guard had no problem in gaining an extra hour of time for himself, which left the pair behind bars the ability to strip back out of their clothes without worry they would be discovered.

Glorfindel used the furs and some bedding to make a nest against the side of the cell, and he was currently situated with his back to the wall. Erestor was lounging against him, his back to Glorfindel’s chest. Somewhere along the way, Glorfindel had chosen another number, and they were jokingly bemoaning their terrible luck.

“Perhaps too many foods with aphrodisiatic qualities eaten at once cancel each other out,” suggested Glorfindel. There was nothing on the dinner tray that related to their current challenge, but they looked through the smuggled items Arwen brought over the past few days and had found a few selections. 

“Perhaps aphrodisiacs are a lot of bunk.” Erestor tossed a piece of chocolate that was bitten into back onto the tray. “How disappointing.”

“More wine?” offered Glorfindel. He reached around Erestor’s waist, purposely using the arm that was further away so that he hugged Erestor as he grasped for the neck of the bottle.

Erestor nodded and settled back. “Feeling sleepy, though,” he admitted.

“Could not possibly be due to the six bottles of wine that we went through today,” whispered Glorfindel into Erestor’s ear as he lifted the bottle up and took a swig.

“Barely five. I smashed one, remember?” Erestor tilted his head back, for Glorfindel was coaxing him with a hand upon his throat. When Erestor was looking at the ceiling and feeling lightheaded, he opened his mouth to protest – and Glorfindel leaned down to seal their lips. The wine he had his his mouth trickled down past Erestor’s lips. Erestor struggled to relax and swallow without choking, and gasped a little for air when Glorfindel retreated. “I am going to scold you for these disgustingly unsanitary habits later.”

“Please. I practically had my tongue wrapped around your balls earlier today,” Glorfindel reminded Erestor. “I cannot believe you think sharing a little wine is worse.”

“I have bathed daily,” argued Erestor. “My balls are practically sparkling.”

“Oh, is that so?” chuckled Glorfindel.

“My mouth, on the other hand, is a contaminated cesspool of germs and uncleanliness.”

“Especially when you get on about Lindir.”

Erestor snorted. “You had to bring up that wayward, pribbling, shit-licking gormless son-of---“

The words were literally stolen from him. Erestor suddenly found himself turned around, with Glorfindel’s tongue forcing its way between his lips. He only fought for a moment and then he was kneading Glorfindel’s shoulders, straddled over him, taking control. Glorfindel gladly submitted, but when as they were parting he teasingly nipped Erestor’s bottom lip and drew blood.

“Cheeky,” scolded Erestor.

Glorfindel stuck out his tongue. “More wine?” he offered again.

Erestor helped himself and picked up the bottle from where Glorfindel had discarded it. “Why yes, thank you,” murmured Erestor as he lifted the bottle, but not to his lips. He slowly poured a few droplets over Glorfindel’s chest. A rivulet chased down his muscles, and Erestor waited until the moment before it threatened to slide off and spoil the bedding to dip his head and trace his tongue through the path. “Lovely bouquet,” he complimented.

“Maybe our trouble was not the food itself, but how we were eating it,” Glorfindel said. He motioned for Erestor to move a little to his left.

With curious eyes, Erestor watched Glorfindel and sipped from the bottle of wine. Glorfindel picked up the discarded chocolate, sucked on a corner of it, and reached out to draw it along Erestor’s arm. A mark was left, but it soon stopped as the chocolate dried. Glorfindel brought it back to his mouth several times. Alternately he sucked on it and added to the streak he was leaving. When it was about as long as his finger, he bowed his head to lick it off. This proved harder than he expected, and he discarded the chocolate again so that he could steady Erestor’s arm and suck the chocolate off, leaving a new mark behind.

“I like how you are thinking, but I would like to make a suggestion,” said Erestor after he took another swig of wine. 

“Do tell.”

Erestor leaned in to taste the chocolate on Glorfindel’s lips. “Let me show you instead.” He handed the bottle back and went off to collect a few things. Erestor returned with more chocolate, candles, and a spoon. “Lie down,” he commanded after he lit one of the candles.

Glorfindel reclined, but he kept himself propped up with his elbows so that he could watch Erestor. A piece of chocolate was broken up and placed in the spoon, which Erestor kept hovered over the flame of the candle until it melted evenly. The spoon was teasingly lifted over Glorfindel’s body, where Erestor finally tilted it over his thigh. Glorfindel cried out, but not in pleasure.

“Shit, piss, fuck!” Glorfindel pounded his hand against the floor a few times while Erestor looked around uncertainly for a solution. He finally grabbed the bottle of wine and doused Glorfindel’s leg with it. “Give me that!” Glorfindel sat up and grabbed the spoon, which he flung across the room.

“We will not be trying that again,” decided Erestor as he carefully cleaned wine and chocolate from Glorfindel’s thigh. There was a burn beneath, and Erestor hurried to their supplies. He brought back one of the clean cloths and the jar of honey.

Glorfindel propped himself up again. “What are you doing?”

“The best I can.” Erestor looked over the area they were in. The wine had been knocked over somehow, and drenched part of the nest, which was now soiled with chocolate as well. He shook his head and snuffed out the candle. “Do you need help getting to the bed? I think we are done here for now.”

“I can make it.” Glorfindel got up and almost tripped over the carnage on his way to the mattress. Erestor stopped him and washed his leg to get the remaining wine cleaned up, then helped make him comfortable.

“The honey will help a little,” explained Erestor as he rubbed some over the burn and covered it with the cloth. “I am so sorry.”

“Come here.” Glorfindel motioned for Erestor to join him, and they were soon cuddled together as Erestor drew a blanket over them. “It was a good idea. We are just novices.”

“I am the novice. I burned you, remember?”

“Not going to forget. Ever.”

“Oh, that was mean.” Erestor only snuggled closer.

Glorfindel kissed the top of his head. “Very important lesson learned. Not everything sexy is actually sexy.”

Erestor’s reply came in the form of snoring.


	22. Ghosts of the Past

Glorfindel woke to the sound of his name.

It was not a sound of alarm or distress, but there was urgency in the voice that spoke. Or was that more of a moan?

“Unhh… unhh… Glorfindel…”

Definitely a moan.

He dared not move. Glorfindel saw that Erestor’s eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. The sheet covering them moved, right about midway down, and Glorfindel knew exactly why he could only see one of Erestor’s hands. His lips curled in a rather pleased expression, and though he had made no sound, somehow, some way, Erestor knew to look. 

There was a little scramble, a brief attempt by Erestor to go do something that was muttered to be very important, but Glorfindel wound an arm around Erestor’s waist and held his captive fast. “If you need something, you can always wake me up,” he purred into Erestor’s ear.

Erestor closed his eyes and turned his head to nuzzle Glorfindel. “I was dreaming,” he sleepily murmured.

“Not a dream now,” said Glorfindel. He rubbed against Erestor’s hip, in case there was doubt of his own arousal. “Want to see what is next on the list?”

“Mmm... no.” Erestor nipped at Glorfindel’s ear. “Fuck the list,” he whispered as he twisted his body and pinned Glorfindel down underneath him. “I worry about that damned list, and then I drift off and I think about what I really want to do with you.”

“You can do anything you want,” answered Glorfindel

“Do you really need that waterfall?” Erestor drawled.

“The wa—oh, no, no water needed.” Glorfindel eased his legs apart so that Erestor shifted atop him. Skin slid against skin, and Erestor leaned in to nibble along Glorfindel’s bottom lip. “You, um- should we- do- the- oil-“ Glorfindel groaned when Erestor sat up and tried to reach the basket in the darkness, the soft glow from Glorfindel being the only light in the room. “Hold on- beneath the pillow-“ Glorfindel grunted and fumbled to get the vial he had tucked there. “Here,” he said as he held it out.

Erestor crawled back and snatched up the bottle. “Someone was certainly confident.” He held it between two fingers. “Are you—“

“Yes. Whatever the question. Yes.” Glorfindel reached up and drew Erestor back down to kiss him. “Unless you were going to play with melted chocolate again,” he interjected.

“No. Just you.” Erestor sat back on his haunches and flung back the blankets after he put the oil down on the mattress. His hands kneaded Glorfindel’s biceps for a moment before he took hold of the oil and opened it. Glorfindel closed his eyes and tried to lift his pelvis up to help, but Erestor had his legs pinned down. “Do you want me like this or on my stomach? It might be easier the first time if you have me turn over.”

“This is fine.” Erestor tipped a little of the oil onto his fingers. He looked down, caught a glimpse of Glorfindel’s erection, and scrunched his nose. He took a deep breath, looked aside, and reached blindly down. His fingers explored and Glorfindel strained to spread his legs further apart. “Tell me if this hurts,” said Erestor as he began to breach his lover.

“I want it to hurt,” groaned Glorfindel. He whimpered invitingly as Erestor poked at him, but did not enter very far. “You can keep going,” encouraged Glorfindel. He felt further intrusion, but it was from two fingers and still not very deep. When he was unable to move again, Glorfindel reached down to ease Erestor’s legs off of his own. This gave him the freedom of movement, and he lifted up from the mattress and down just enough to force Erestor’s fingers further in. “Ungh... that... there... yes…” Glorfindel let his arms drop back down when Erestor slid his fingers in past the knuckles. 

There was a little experimentation as Erestor worked his fingers in and out of the tight passage. Beneath him, Glorfindel continued to make noises of pleasure and excitement, or advised him when more oil, deeper thrusts, or faster movement was requested.

And then, something was suddenly wrong. Glorfindel felt the tremors, the shaking of Erestor’s hand and the fingers inside of him that abruptly pulled out as Erestor whimpered and moved away. Glorfindel sat up while Erestor tried to untangle his feet from the sheets. “Erestor, what is wrong?” Glorfindel managed in the momentary chaos to sit up, reach out, and touch Erestor’s shoulder, but he was pushed away as Erestor panicked and half-crawled, half-scooted off the bed and all the way to the bars of the cell. For a moment, Glorfindel’s arm remained suspended in the air, and then he slowly lowered it as he asked, “What are you afraid of?”

Erestor shook his head, but he was already a sobbing mess, trembling against the steel bars. His legs were bent, his arms hugged around them, face obscured by his knees.

When Glorfindel made a move to join him, Erestor scrambled further away. Vision blurring and stomach churning, Glorfindel took up the same position where he sat. “Please,” he begged. “Please let me help you,” he whispered. “I—I do not know what I did—“

“It is not you.” Erestor sniffled and gasped for air. 

Glorfindel took a deep breath. “Then stop pushing me away.” He wiped at his own eyes. 

“I could hurt you,” blurted out Erestor. “I love you. I have not loved anything in a long time, and I love you. And I cannot lose you.”

“Then stop running from me!” Glorfindel bowed his head and tried to compose himself, but the tears kept coming. “Erestor, you are not going to hurt me.”

“My father loved my mother, and he hurt her. What if I killed you?”

“You are not going to kill me. Takes more than that to kill me.” Glorfindel swallowed back the emotion long enough to join Erestor. While Erestor continued to retreat, it was only a matter of time before he was backed into a corner. Glorfindel refused to be daunted by the half-hearted shove that Erestor attempted. He took hold of Erestor’s chin. “What did we agree to?” Erestor began to shake his head. “Erestor.” Glorfindel shifted his hands so that they were on either side of Erestor’s face. “You are loved.”

Erestor squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders shaking as the tears continued to run down his face. 

“Come on. Please, Erestor. Say it.”

The words were not loud, but they were clear enough for Glorfindel. “I am loved.”

“And you will not hurt me.” Glorfindel slowly leaned in and barely brushed his lips against Erestor’s. “Say it, my dear. I promise you. I would stop you if it went too far, and I can stop you. I am a lot stronger than you are, and I know my boundaries. You will not hurt me.”

The words this time were mumbled, and Erestor did not make eye contact.

“Erestor. Look at me, lover.” Glorfindel licked his lips as Erestor finally looked back up at him. “You will not hurt me.”

There was a considerable pause, but Erestor finally spoke. “I will not hurt you.”

“Again. You will not hurt me.”

“I will not hurt you.” The words flowed a little faster.

“You will not hurt me.” Glorfindel’s voice was firm and commanding, and Erestor answered him louder this time.

“I will not hurt you.”

“We will always be together.”

Tears welled up in Erestor’s eyes again. “But what if—“

“We will always be together. In life, and if one of us should perish, the other will most certainly follow. I know I would,” said Glorfindel. His hands slipped away from Erestor’s cheeks and took hold of his hands instead. He lifted them up to kiss one of Erestor’s palms. “I have never been so happy before in my life. The moment that I realized that I had found you, nothing else has mattered to me. We will always be together.”

There was a tremor to Erestor’s voice. “We will always be together.” His head bowed down, and he did not push away as Glorfindel pulled him close and held him as he cried. There were some mumbled words that came from him, but Glorfindel shushed the apologies and rocked a little as he smoothed his dark hair back. Every sniffled endearment was met with tiny kisses and nuzzles and returned words of love.

The coif had slid back and off of Erestor’s head, so when Erestor began to calm down, Glorfindel untied the strings, brushed Erestor’s hair back with his fingers, and repositioned it. As he tied it back into place, Glorfindel said softly, “We do not have to have sex to make love. We do not even have to make love for me to love you.” 

Erestor took a deep breath. “I am sor—“ His words were cut off by Glorfindel’s mouth. They kissed for several minutes, until Glorfindel suggested that they return to the mattress.

There was a damp, greasy spot near the pillows where the open oil spilled, and a sticky stain midway where the honey that had been used on Glorfindel’s burn dribbled and soaked in. In fact, there was still a part of Glorfindel’s thigh that was tacky from the honey, but they were both too drained to care. 

Once they were settled back in bed, Glorfindel kept a tight hold on Erestor, while Erestor’s fingers gently played with Glorfindel’s curls in the dim glow. It was Glorfindel who spoke first. “I hate everyone in this place for leaving you like this.”

“They did not know,” defended Erestor.

Glorfindel’s voice was louder and he growled, “I hate them all for not realizing.”

Erestor shook his head. “I can function just fine most of the time. When it becomes overwhelming, I can usually manage to wait until the library closes for the day, and then I just let it all out and move on. If I need time alone earlier than that, it helps that my room is just a stairway away. I used to be able to control myself so well. It never mattered before.”

“It should have mattered.” Glorfindel took a deep breath and lowered his voice when he realized he was shouting at Erestor. “It matters to me. –You- matter to me. There are things that happen to a person that they want to talk about. When my sister died, if I did not have someone to talk to, I think I would have gone mad. When I returned to life, there were so many things that just poured out, and I had friends and family who listened. You lost your family, and hardly anyone here constitutes as a friend, not before I came.” Glorfindel stroked Erestor’s cheek with his thumb. “In fact, I think you probably could have used a friend sooner than a lover.”

Erestor’s fingers possessively held the lock of golden hair he had been twirling. “What do you mean by that?” he asked in a low and almost panicked voice.

“Only that I wish I had noticed sooner. You were so good to me the first day I was here – you were the only person here who has seen me like that. You took me in that night, no questions, you comforted me – and where was I for you?” Glorfindel was crying softly again. “You needed someone more than I did.”

“How could you know?” Erestor relinquished his hold on Glorfindel’s hair, ran a hand through it, and drew him closer to kiss him. 

“I just should have known that the one person solving everyone else’s problems had problems of his own.”

Erestor looked away for a moment before he looked back and wiped the tears from Glorfindel’s cheeks. “Stop that. You barely knew me.” He snuggled as close as he could, positioned on top of Glorfindel, whose arms were still around him. “I am sorry.”

“No, I am. You have no reason to be sorry for anything.”

Nothing was said for a while. Glorfindel rubbed Erestor’s back with one hand and kept his other arm around his waist, while Erestor resumed his fascinated examination of the spun gold hair. “You have lovely hair,” Erestor whispered, head against Glorfindel’s shoulder in such a way that his lips brushed skin as he spoke. “I wish I had hair like yours,” he added wistfully.

“I like yours better.” Glorfindel moved the hand on Erestor’s back up to play with Erestor’s hair. “If I had dark silky hair like this, I doubt I would ever cut it.”

Erestor drew some of his own hair around to examine it. Without asking permission, he began to weave his long hair into a braid with the curly golden lock he had been playing with. “There. Best of both worlds.”

Glorfindel chuckled when Erestor finished and settled down again to snuggle. “What do you propose we do if one of us needs to use the chamber pot during the night?”

“I have it on good authority that we will always be together, so I suspect we shall just have to accompany one another.”

\+ * + * +

“Elladan was not exaggerating. This place really is a shithole.” 

That was how they woke the second time. There was a gentle smile on Celebrian’s lips as she watched the warrior and the scholar scramble and fight over who would use the sheet as cover to get to their clothing, and an impromptu untangling of each other when the partially unraveled braid from the night before was suddenly remembered. “I will go and wait at the top of the stairway. Call to me when you are presentable, gentlemen.”

Erestor rubbed his eyes and let out a little cry when the sheet was yanked away and left his bare on the mattress. “Glorfindel!”

“Well, what if she comes back?” he said as he hurried to the pile of clothing. He nearly tripped on the drag of the fabric. “I need to be prepared!”

“But what about me?” Erestor crossed his arms and made no attempt to move.

“You are not naked,” argued Glorfindel as he tied the sheet around his waist so that he could pull a shirt over his head. “You have that thing on your head,” he said as he patted the top of his own head in case Erestor had somehow forgotten what and where it was.

“Ass.” Erestor huffed and remained in his position. “As long as you are there, you can bring my clothing to me. Thank you.”

“What do I look like, your butler?”

Erestor squinted. “No, my butler would be taller.”

Glorfindel slowly turned around and narrowed his eyes at Erestor. “You can have the sheet,” he said as he wadded it up and tossed it toward the bed where Erestor was pouting. After his leggings were on, Glorfindel picked up clothes for Erestor and brought them to the bed. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Erestor waited until Glorfindel passed him on his way to see what they still had in their stores for breakfast, and used the folded robes to smack Glorfindel’s backside. 

Glorfindel looked back over his shoulder, shook his head and then called out, “You can come back down, Lady Celebrian.”

Erestor hurriedly stood and smacked Glorfindel again before he rushed to get the heavy outer robe over his head. He pulled it down and fastened the collar just as Celebrian peeked in at them. “Did my children let you know I needed the little red book back?”

“Yes, they did let us know,” confirmed Glorfindel. He slowly retrieved the book and brought it to the bars. “I hope it will be kept safe.”

“I promise.” Celebrian took the volume and tucked it into a pocket of her dress. “Now, was there anything pressing that either of you were involved in here.”

“Uh...” Glorfindel’s cheeks began to flush brightly. “Well...”

“Up in the house,” elaborated Celebrian. “Related to work or something like that,” she further added, for she was holding a candelabrum in one hand, and it was evident from the color of her cheeks that the unsaid yet implied that Glorfindel was thinking about was now on her mind. 

“Is anything the matter?” questioned Erestor.

“Not exactly. I have just come to the conclusion that if my husband intends to continue to act as he has, I am going to need to intervene.”

Glorfindel looked impressed. “You plan to secure our release?”

Celebrian’s smile was nothing short of mischievous, and Glorfindel realized where Elladan and Elrohir got it from. “Not exactly.”


	23. Running Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again, darlings. It seems I can only write this story in the summertime, so perhaps camp nano will be good to me and I'll manage to get to the end this time around. I made it through all of the random numbers sent, so it's time for a change of venue. Enjoy!

The walk to the bathing chamber was attempted in the most casual way possible. Glorfindel was chosen to keep concealed a few items that they wished to take with them, as Erestor’s hands were shaking as they chose the few items. Celebrian had already taken a few things with her when she left, after explaining her plan to them.

Following another disagreement with her husband as to his behavior and treatment of his staff, she made contact in secret to her parents. Her mother immediately granted asylum for the two prisoners – the only caveat being that the prisoners would need to find their own way to Lothlorien.

As the door was shut behind them, Glorfindel and Erestor took a moment to pretend that they were having conversation before washing up. As soon as they suspected that the guards were concentrating on other matters and would only bother them when they were to alert them that time was up, Glorfindel and Erestor rushed to the indoor waterfall.

“We are not going to have much time once we leave. If we jump down there fully clothed, we are going to have to contend with wet clothing,” realized Glorfindel.

Erestor kept his eyes on the door as he spoke. “If we undress now, we are going to waste a lot of time. Besides, we have no idea if Elladan has any clothing with him for us to put on. What do you want us to do, ride naked across the Trollshaws?”

“He must have some clothing! He has all of those things that we sent with Celebrian!” 

“Shh! Keep your voice down,” warned Erestor. “Do you want the guards to come in?”

“They are going to come in soon enough whether we do or not,” Glorfindel reminded him. “We can leave our clothing on, but it is going to be slower going.” Glorfindel edged to the water. “Look here – we have to make sure we land in the water. Keep your arms close to your body and—“

“I know how to jump into a pond,” interrupted Erestor with exasperation. 

Glorfindel glared at Erestor, but then heard the guard announce the ten minute warning. “Fine then. See you at the bottom.” Glorfindel walked quickly into the shower area, judged the distance, and breathed deeply.

“Everything alright?” asked Erestor, who was behind Glorfindel now. 

“Not really,” he realized as he looked at the fall before him, his mind flashing back to days of old.

“Here. Let me go first.” Erestor ducked under Glorfindel’s arm and made to jump. The water on the ground made it slippery, so instead of leaping down with legs tucked, Erestor slid down onto his rear with a momentary startled cry. Glorfindel was too slow to grab him, and Erestor fell down. Unable to have much time to think, all he was able to do to avoid worse injury was lean out of the way of the rocks. His right leg was not so lucky.

“Erestor!” Glorfindel waited a moment so that he would not risk landing on top of Erestor and drowning one or both of them, then jumped down into the water below. He rose back up and immediately looked around for his companion.

Elladan and Elrohir were both at the edge of the water. Elrohir was holding towels and looked concerned, while Elladan was wading in now to retrieve Erestor, who was biting down on his fingers while his other hand was undoubtedly under the water grasping whatever had been injured. It took less than a minute to get both of them out of the water. There was no blood, but Erestor’s knee was already starting to swell. “I think I broke my foot,” he said, teeth clenched as Elrohir draped a towel around him.

“We need to get you on horses,” directed Elladan. He looked at Elrohir. “I am soaked. If you run to the stable—“

“Already ahead of you on that.” Elrohir tossed the second towel to Glorfindel before he raced off to the stable.

Elladan turned his attention to getting both of them on horses. “Elrohir is going to go with you. You need a healer to assess Erestor at the very least. Of course, it would be best to keep him here now with father, but considering circumstances, Elrohir is your best bet. Glorfindel, give me a hand here,” he insisted. Together, Elladan and Glorfindel were able to help Erestor onto one of the horses. “Everything is in the saddlebags.” He began to unfasten his shirt as Glorfindel mounted the other horse. In short order, Elrohir rode back, and Elladan tossed the shirt to him. “Here. Best I can do for you,” offered Elladan. “Better get going. I can update mother. I can also pretend to be both of us for a while to throw father off.”

“Right – he will think there are only two riders. Maybe.” Elrohir frowned. “You really want to take on his wrath by yourself?”

“Pah, wrath,” said Elladan, but he was obviously a bit shaken. “Now go! Or all of us will have his wrath to deal with!”

Elrohir gave a nod. “Follow me,” he commanded, and Glorfindel and Erestor made haste as Elrohir led them on an unfamiliar path that led away from the house. “We have the advantage in that it will take a little while for them to put together what happened – but ultimately, he will come after us. If I can, I will go back,” he said as he rounded them across a bridge. He looked back, and noticed that Erestor was barely able to keep hold of the reins. “Here. We need to stop.”

“How can we stop,” worried Glorfindel. “We are still in the valley!”

“This way.” Elrohir doubled back around, and two more bridges were crossed before they came to a hidden spot near a waterfall. The three passed by an entry into a dark passage that took them through part of a mountain. When they saw light again, it was in a glade. There were several traders, groups sitting in small groups chatting, and a gazebo where Elrohir led them. 

“Where… are we?” asked Glorfindel as he stayed on his horse and keep watch around to see if they would be followed.

“Imlad Gelair. It is part of Imladris, and yet not exactly. It ‘belongs’ to the travelers – Gildor Inglorion and his company. Some of them stay over here, sometimes we have people who decide to come here instead. But I doubt that father will send anyone here – not right away, at least. He will probably think that we left and send a party to the main gate. In fact, I wish I had thought of this earlier. We are going to leave through this back passage when we go. It might take a little longer overall, but I think it gives us a better chance.” All the while, Elrohir was examining Erestor’s legs, which was easy with Erestor still on the horse. “Erestor, do you think you can ride sidesaddle?” 

Erestor, who was clutching the horse’s neck now that they were stopped, turned his head so that he could look at Elrohir. He was still drenched and shivering a little despite the towel that was still wrapped around him. “Never tried before.”

“If you can, I will be able to bind your legs together. The left one is fine. You shattered your knee and fractured your tibia. I think you might have broken a few toes and maybe your foot. We do not have time to put a cast on it, but I can set the bones. The knee will heal on its own, but it will take time. I can at least make you more comfortable.” Elrohir helped Erestor off of the horse when he nodded. “I can also secure you to the saddle that way – kind of make a sort of belt to keep you from falling off if I give you something for the pain. I need to find a saddle and get a few things from the healers here. Sit tight. I will hurry.”

“Maybe you should ride on the horse with me,” suggested Glorfindel. “I can keep you steady if you start to doze off.”

“I am far too nervous to sleep,” responded Erestor. “Besides, two on one horse will slow us down. Have faith in Elrohir. He is our best hope.” He clutched the towel and drew it closer. “Sorry,” he added with chattering teeth.

Glorfindel dismounted and knelt beside Erestor. “No apologies. What can I do for you?”

“Promise me that no matter what, you will stay with me.”

“Of course, darling, of course.” Glorfindel stroked the fingers of Erestor’s hand when Elrohir came back, and let Erestor squeeze his fingers while Elrohir jerked the tibia back in place again. “Tell me how I can help,” he said to Elrohir.

“Just pray I can get him bandaged up and back on the horse before someone comes here looking,” replied Elrohir. When he offered Erestor something to dull the pain, it was refused. “Alright, Glorfindel, take this,” he said, handing him a corked bottle of some sort of red liquid. “Anfalas. If we get separated, he can take it up to four times a day, six hours apart – if possible, with food. No alcohol, or it will dull the effects. It will make him a little sleepy.” Glorfindel nodded and committed Elrohir’s instructions to his memory while Elrohir switched the saddles on Erestor’s horse. “Put that in your saddle bag and then help me get him onto his horse.”

Glorfindel carefully wrapped the bottle in a cloth before he situated it in the safest spot he could find. He returned and aided Elrohir, who then created a sort of harness to keep Erestor from sliding out of the saddle before he used some strips of fabric to tie Erestor’s legs together. “That should help. I am sorry to say that the ride is still going to be brutal for us.”

“I can manage,” said Erestor. “We need to go,” he mumbled.

Glorfindel nodded and got back onto his own horse. “If we need to stop, let me know,” he implored. Erestor gave a half-committed nod. “I am serious. We can find places to hide. I learned how to do that from a master.” He leaned over to kiss Erestor’s brow before he looked to Elrohir, who was on his horse as well. “Which way?”

“Over here.” Elrohir tugged on his reins and headed to an area that was thick with trees. Glorfindel turned to see that Erestor was holding the reins with one hand and the towel with his other. The younger Elf gave a nod, and Glorfindel returned it. Carefully, yet quickly, they set off in the direction of the Golden Wood.


	24. A Safe Place

Erestor was exhausted. Between the long ride and his injured state, the trip had been brutal. They spent the first two days traveling with very little rest, slow and sustained. When they did take a proper rest, it was in an abandoned cave that had been a den for some sort of filthy animal. In fact, Erestor remember very little between that campsite and arriving at the one they were at now, which he could not quite place.

The architecture was of Elven design, but it was falling into ruin. It had only been a few days since they had left Rivendell, which meant they could not have made it far. The only logical direction was that they had arrived on the outskirts of Eregion, or what was left of it. Erestor was resting on a surprisingly comfortable bed in the back of what seemed to be a tunnel. Upon further observation, Erestor was able to determine that this ‘tunnel’ was in fact a part of a turret that had fallen down sideways, and a window was being used as a doorway of sorts.

It was dark out, and he greatly desired to sleep again, but he also wished to know where Glorfindel was. Erestor made an attempt to logically discover exactly where they must be. He did not need to figure out the puzzle on his own, for someone touched his shoulder, and without looking he knew it was Glorfindel.

“Elrohir and I made the decision to stop here and find a healer,” explained Glorfindel. “Our supplies were also going to be inadequate for three people. We are probably only staying here tonight, and then we will be on the road again.”

“Where is here?” Erestor coughed a little. “I assume Eregion?”

Glorfindel sat down beside the straw bed and reached up to stroke Erestor’s face. “Yes, Eregion. We are in Gwingris. You developed a fever and it needed to be treated. We could not take the chance you might swoon from your horse. Your leg needed tending, too. Do you remember the Elf who was helping us?”

“Of course I remember Elrohir,” murmured Erestor. He coughed and swallowed, and tried to clear his throat. It felt as if he had swallowed dust, and Glorfindel retrieved a flask from somewhere close by. It was held to Erestor’s lips so that he was able to drink a sip of it. “He is still with us, is he not?”

“Yes, he is, though I meant Elnestad.”

Erestor closed his eyes as his head was lowered back onto a soft heap of pillows. “Who?”

“Elnestad, the healer here in Gwingris. You were awake when we arrived and he asked you several questions about the pain and how you were doing, but you were… a little off,” Glorfindel settled on.

“A little… off?” Erestor looked down his nose at Glorfindel when the blond began to blush.

“Mmm... you… brought up a few… items…” Glorfindel lifted a hand in greeting as a pair of Elves passed by the wide open end where the turret had undoubtedly broken from its base, and then lowered his voice. “You made mention of a few things from the book.”

Erestor’s eyes widened. “Which things?”

“Well… you were referring to me as your Arborn and when Elnestad asked me what that meant, you filled him in on the book and continued to let him know about several of the items we have done.” With every word, Erestor’s eyes seemed to grow larger. “He was good enough to remind me that he has heard many strange things in his days and that he would leave it confidential, but…”

“But?” prodded Erestor.

“Elrohir was there, and—“

“Nooooo.” Erestor lifted a hand to cover his face. “No, no, no…”

“I, uh, I tried to get him to go somewhere else, but he was pretty insistent in staying there to ‘help tend to you in your delicate condition’.”

“I will kill him,” said Erestor firmly. “I will fucking kill him.”

“So far all he has done is walk by and smile—“

“Right, well, I am going to wipe that smile right off his face,” vowed Erestor as he tried to fling the blanket aside. “Where are my… wait, did I have boots when we left? Never mind – where is he?” 

“Easy, there, soldier.” Glorfindel helped to steady Erestor when he abruptly tried to get up and only managed to sit up and then slump like a ragdoll. “I think we may need to contend with Elrohir telling Elladan, but I doubt he is going to go around Rivendell spreading rumors.”

Erestor settled back down and grimaced. “My head hurts.”

“Where does it hurt? Is it like a throbbing pain or a stabbing pain?”

“It started like a burst when I tried to get up, like stabbing,” said Erestor as he put his palm to his forehead. “Now it is an intermittent throb, but like a stabbing.” 

Immediately Glorfindel looked around. “I will see if I can find Elnestad or Elrohir.”

Before Glorfindel could stand up, Erestor had his fingers wrapped around Glorfindel’s wrist. “Do you need to go? Can you not call for them?”

Glorfindel gently took hold of Erestor’s hand. “I would, were it not so late. There are many who are sleeping, and sometimes the orcs attack at night. I would not wish to shout and give them cause to do just that.”

Erestor clung now to Glorfindel’s hand. “You can stay. It is not that bad. It hardly—“ He cringed and reached for his head with his free hand.

“I will be right back,” Glorfindel assured Erestor as he finally stood up. “I promise. I am just going to find one of them and I will be right back.”

Erestor dug his nails into Glorfindel's hand. "No. Please," he begged softly. "I need you. I do not want to be alone."

"Alright." Glorfindel sat back down. "Let me... let me turn this way so I can watch for someone."

Erestor made a mumbled request, and Glorfindel bent his head down slightly. "What was that?"

Erestor lowered his gaze and studied their hands. "H-hold me," he said a bit louder. "Please? I just - I feel really vulnerable right now," he whispered in a shaky voice. "I - I have never been injured like this before and I fear I might not recover - what if I have a limp now forever? What if I can never walk again? I - I am not very old, you know," he said, but his voice was quivering and he could barely get the words out. He sniffled when Glorfindel shifted around and gave his hand a squeeze before pulling his fingers away so that he could come around from the other side and join Erestor on the makeshift bed.

"Shh.. it is going to be all right, honey. I am here. I am not going anywhere," he assured Erestor. "I am going to keep watch and when someone comes by. Whoever it is, I can ask them if they can go and get someone for us. I just wanted to have someone help you with your headache," he said soothingly. “I hate seeing you in pain.”

"I know," said Erestor. "I know that. I just... I need you with me right now," he said. "I have never been away from Rivendell like this before."

"Neither have I. Been on the run, that is. I mean, come to think of it, this is really the only time I decided not to face something." Glorfindel rubbed his hand along Erestor's arm to try to comfort him. “I think I owe you an apology for that. When I was released, I should have told Elrond right then and there that I was leaving and taking you with me – or I should have found a way to get you out of there. This would not have happened if I had acted sooner.”

After a few minutes, Erestor began to breathe normally again. "Sorry. You should - right, you should go and find that healer," he suggested. "I will be fine until you return."

Glorfindel kissed the top of Erestor's head. "Are you sure? I can w-- oh! Hey! Elrohir!" Glorfindel sat up when he saw the peredhel walk past the little haven he and Erestor were in. He waved a hand and hissed at him again. "Elrohir, could you do us a favor?" 

Initially, Elrohir's eyes glittered with mischief as he entered their temporary domain, but he bowed his head and looked to them seriously when he was closer. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

"Can you find the healer we encountered earlier? Erestor has a headache, and I just worry that it could be a concussion," said Glorfindel.

Elrohir nodded. "Let me see if I can find him. Elnesir, correct?"

"Elnestad," corrected Glorfindel. "Also, if it would not be too inconvenient, would you be able to find another blanket for us?"

"I am fine," said Erestor, though he did continue to shiver slightly. "I do not want to be a pest."

"You? Never." Glorfindel put an arm around Erestor and nodded to Elrohir. "That should be all."

"I shall return shortly. If I cannot find the healer, I will see if I can find something for him." 

Once Elrohir was gone, Glorfindel shifted around and pulled Erestor over onto his other side so that they were facing each other. "I wish you were not suffering so much."

"Right now, I am just happy to be out of that cell, and still with you.

"You are always going to be with me, dear." Glorfindel nuzzled Erestor's neck. "Not going to get rid of me."

"Never would. Worried someone might take you away." Erestor squeezed his eyes closed and pressed his forehead against Glorfindel's chest as his chin trembled. "I dreamed about it," he blurted out.

The words were muffled, but Glorfindel heard them. "Dreamed about what, darling?"

"You." Erestor snaked an arm under Glorfindel and wound the other around his other side so that he could cling to him tightly. "I dreamed about it. Fire and darkness and falling and there was nothing I could do to save you." Erestor tried to control his emotions, but they came out as little whimpered sobs. “And I was the cause of it again because I made you grow your hair long and another one of those things got you. And you just kept falling and I was too far out of reach to save you. You were at the bottom of the pit and you kept screaming and there was nothing I could do.”

"Oh, sweetheart. Oh..." Glorfindel blinked as tears pricked his eyes. "Erestor. Listen to me. I fell so fast and so far, I barely had time to think and I felt nothing. Nothing."

"Liar."

"No. It is true. It happened so quickly. One moment, I was smugly turning away to declare my victory and the next I was being greeted by Ecthelion and trying to figure out where the fuck my legs went." Glorfindel rubbed Erestor's back and liberally kissed his hair, for Erestor's face was still buried against his chest. "I think that when you fell, you still have lingering panic from it, and your mind is playing tricks on you. Your dreams are just unfounded nightmares. Nothing is going to happen to me. I am staying right here with you. Everything will be fine and we are going to go to Lothlorien and you are going to heal."

Elrohir returned then with the healer, who had with him several items in a basket. "I already explained a bit," said Elrohir as Elnestad set his basket down on the ground so that he could assess Erestor.

"I can take care of the headache. I doubt there is a concussion, though - you showed no signs of it earlier," said the healer.

Erestor, forced now to sit up again and relinquish his hold on Glorfindel, tried to retain his dignity in the situation he found himself in as the healer pulled back the blankets and Erestor realized he was dressed in naught but a loincloth and bandages. He tried to discretely wipe his tears away, but when Elrohir handed him a handkerchief, he gave up and blew his nose twice. "Is the sleeping something to worry about?"

“What do you mean?” asked the healer as he focused on the injuries to Erestor’s leg.

“I can barely seem to stay awake. Could that be from a concussion or something else?”

"You sleep because you need to heal. Healing takes a lot of energy, and so does traveling. You used up everything you had just to get here, and now your body needs to heal." Elnestad took some herbs from the basket and began to crush them in a bowl. "I am going to mix something for you that will allow you to sleep soundly."

"I.. uh..." Erestor sighed and glanced momentarily at Elrohir before he spoke. "I.. would prefer not to dream while I am sleeping," he said quietly.

"Night terrors?" asked Elnestad.

Erestor blushed. "Well..."

"Erestor, you had some bad nights on our journey over here," revealed Elrohir. "It happens. I think that Elnestad can give you something that will allow you to sleep without dreaming too much."

"I can indeed give you something that will keep you from dreaming, but sometimes I find that does not solve the problem. Our dreams are a way for us to tend to things we are having trouble with when we are awake," said the healer. "You might alleviate them by talking about your worries with someone. If you should like, I would be able to listen to anything. A healer of the body is often a healer of the mind."

"Uh... can I have the blanket back?" asked Erestor when Elnestad continued to mash the herbs while leaving him uncovered.

"Oh, of course." Elnestad reached up to tend to it, but Glorfindel pulled the blankets so that they were covering both Erestor and himself. "I need to get some hot water so that I can make a tea for you from this. When I get back, you can let me know if you prefer to dream or not."

Elrohir waited until the healer was gone before he addressed the other two. "I talked with some of the others here. They suggested that we stay until Erestor heals, but that could be a month or more. By then we would surely be found. However, there seems to be a consensus that my father has already sent a party to the Redhorn Pass, and that they will arrive before we do."

"So we should probably avoid the pass," said Glorfindel. “Do we turn back? Make our way through the Trollshaws, perhaps to Celondim?”

"I think we should still try to get to Lothlorien. There is another way there," said Elrohir. "The trouble is, it is Moria."

"I have no idea what that means," said Glorfindel.

Erestor piped up with, "Moria. Dwarves. An underground realm." He paused. “Lots of places to fall.”

Glorfindel wrinkled his nose and tightened his hold on Erestor. "I do not know if I really want to go there, but if it means getting to Lothlorien and being safe, I will crawl through a trough of troll dung."

"I do not think it will be that dire for us," assured Elrohir with a little smirk. "However, I think we should decide now which way we are going. There is, of course, the third option of staying here, perhaps for a little while."

"We cannot say here," said Erestor in a drowsy voice. "We need to get as far from Rivendell as we can. I do, at least." 

Glorfindel hugged Erestor. "Elrohir... maybe you should go back to Rivendell. I do not want you to face your father's wrath for aiding us."

"Honestly... I do not think I want to go back just yet," admitted Elrohir. "And not because of my father and fearing things he might do or something. This is the first time I have been away from home without Elladan. I... I kind of like it," he said.

"Well. In that case, I suppose we should be ready to travel come morning.”

Elrohir nodded in agreement to Glorfindel’s suggestion. “I have been gathering all of the supplies and Elnestad offered to travel with us to the next outpost to keep an eye on Erestor.” Elrohir began to smirk and added, “Also, he thinks the two of you are adorable and that you remind him of a brother he has or something.”

“Whatever works,” said Glorfindel quietly.

“The biggest drawback is that we are not able to take the horses into Moria,” explained Elrohir.

“But you said earlier that horses would not be able to come with us if we went to the pass,” Glorfindel reminded Elrohir. “It sounds like we would need to use goats either way.”

“True. But Redhorn goats are very tame and clean, while Moria goats are… not.”

“If I have to hitch a couple of skunks to an old sled to get through there, I will do it.” 

Elrohir shrugged. “Might be better than the goats.”

“We can debate it in the morning,” Glorfindel whispered. “Could you please let Elnestad know that I appreciate what he was doing, but the draught is no longer necessary at the moment,” he said as he tucked the blanket around Erestor, who had dozed off again.

“Of course,” whispered Elrohir. He shook out the second blanket he brought and draped it over the elves in the bed. “You know, Arwen and Elladan and our mother and I share Elnestad’s opinion about the two of you.”

Glorfindel blushed in answer.

“Erestor is really special to us,” he continued. “Kind of like a little brother, especially for Arwen.”

“I was getting that feeling,” replied Glorfindel.

“If…” Elrohir pressed his lips together to consider his words. “He had a bad experience once. My father stepped in or I think Elladan might have done some permanent damage to Lindir’s face.”

“Lindir?” Glorfindel narrowed his eyes. “What did Lindir do?”

Elrohir bit his lip. “I do not think it my place to say. However, if this is not… serious… if this, um…”

“I love him,” interrupted Glorfindel in a firm voice. “There is no reason to worry and nothing to doubt. If we were to part, it would be because it was Erestor’s wish, not mine.”

Elrohir put his hands up, palms to face Glorfindel. “Sorry. I meant nothing personal by it – we just…” Elrohir sighed. “We will not stand to see him hurt again. That is why we are going through such lengths with the way father is behaving.”

“I understand. I am glad he has such good friends,” added Glorfindel.

“He has family,” Elrohir corrected. “He might not want to see it that way, because he fears what might happen. He fears loss, so the closer he gets to someone, the further he tries to move away. He fears to be alone, so he forces solitude upon himself. Do you understand?”

Slowly, Glorfindel nodded and reflected upon the time spent with Erestor in the cell. “I think what you are telling me is to stand my ground.”

“Erestor is going to push you away, not because he wants to, but because he fears what will happen if he allows himself to become attached and something happens. He would rather live in misery than enjoy life and the occasional agonies that come with it.” Elrohir stretched and looked over his shoulder. “I should try to catch Elnestad before he comes back, and then, I think I need to find a place to get some rest.” He looked back to Glorfindel. “Sorry to leave you alone now with your thoughts.”

“I accept the apology, but, I am not alone,” Glorfindel assured Elrohir as he nestled himself down beside Erestor. 


	25. Ghosts of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are a new reader, welcome!
> 
> If you are a returning reader, my sincerest apologies! I have 47K+/(12 or so chapters) written of this story, but I sometimes forget to post it when I've written it...

There was no way to tell the time in the depths of Moria, but Glorfindel felt it was too late to travel, and too late to be forced to listen to the bantering of his travel companions. They had ventured through Eregion, from outpost to outpost, and that had seemed a lengthy task. All the while, both Glorfindel and Elrohir kept watch whenever they camped to be sure they remained unfollowed, or at least far enough ahead to stay out of sight. Erestor slept through much of it. His concussion now seemed superficial in comparison to his other injuries – especially now that conversations flowed faster, and he even found time for laughter in the depths of the Dwarven caverns.

Erestor had, in fact, just chuckled at a joke Elrohir told him, even though it was an old joke with a predictable answer. He finished with a sigh before he took a look at their surroundings, which were not much different than their surroundings an hour previous. “I did not think we would find a place darker than the dungeon.”

“The part I dislike about the darkness is it heightens my other senses,” said Elrohir. “I am pretty sure these goats are the smelliest ones they could find.”

Erestor plucked something from the top of the head of his goat, and threw it aside with a frown. “I think mine has lice.”

“Everything has lice here,” Elrohir informed him, and Erestor shuddered. “At least yours is just dirty like the others. My goat tried to bite me!”

“Mine just stepped in something.”

“I think I am going to name mine--”

Glorfindel closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and soldiered on. He spurred his goat on ahead, though this only lasted a moment, for he did not know the way. It only gave him a brief reprieve from the complaints of his companions.

“Glorfindel. Glorfindel.” Elrohir sped his mount to join Glorfindel. “I just wrote a limerick about my goat. Do you want to hear it?”

“No, thank you,” replied Glorfindel, but Elrohir was already reciting.

My goat smells very musty,  
His hooves are very crusty,  
It will be in poor taste   
If he licks my face  
Because he… hey, Erestor! How did that last line go?

Erestor was unable to coax the goat to move faster with his feet, for his leg was still bound and sore, but it had improved enough for him to ride without too much discomfort. “Because he likes to lick his own butt.”

“No… I changed the first two lines.”

Erestor frowned. “Then you have to change the last one, too. It has to rhyme.”

“I know! Help me!” Elrohir turned back to Glorfindel, who was trying desperately to ignore them. “Glorfindel, what rhymes with butt? I mean, what means butt that rhymes with musty?”

“My grasp of Sindarin is still limited,” Glorfindel said as he pulled back on the reigns of his goat. 

"That is not Sindarin. That is Westron. They need a word that rhymes with 'musty' that refers to one's posterior, laddie." Valthor was riding to Glorfindel's opposite side, and he was apparently attempting to be helpful in regards to the situation at hand. "I would suggest finding a way to use the word 'dusty' or 'rusty' in your poem," said Valthor.

"Great. Thank you. Very helpful," said Glorfindel as he listened to the sound of Elrohir’s goat clip-clopping away.

The Dwarf gave a nod. "At your service," he said.

"Glorfindel! I think I have it!" exclaimed Elrohir as he sped back to them.

My goat smells very musty,  
His hooves are very crusty,  
It will be in poor taste   
If he licks my face  
Because his tongue is rusty.

"What happened to your goat licking his butt?" wondered Erestor from the back of the goat caravan.

"How was he ever supposed to lick his own butt in the first place?" countered Elrohir.

"A rusty tongue makes no sense whatsoever," said Erestor. "I liked it much better the other way."

"We never finished it the other way," Elrohir reminded him. "Besides-- wait, where is Glorfindel going?"

"Ahead, I would wager," said Valthor. "Probably out of earshot."

"Excuse me." Erestor pushed at the neck of his goat in an attempt to prod him forward. The goat grudgingly trotted faster over the rocky terrain. When Erestor was close enough to see the bouncing of Glorfindel’s hair, he called out, “You seem to be in an awful hurry.”

Glorfindel slowed the pace of his mount until he and Erestor were side by side. “I do not like this place. I feel trapped.” Glorfindel looked warily upward. “Erestor, something here just makes my skin crawl. I know that you and Elrohir are just having fun, but I have no idea how you can. This place makes me so uneasy.”

Erestor listened and finally nodded. “I understand. Moria is unfamiliar to you, and it is underground. That in and of itself should be unnerving.”

"It is something more than that, Erestor. Something far more than that. There is some great evil here, something from the darker days." Glorfindel looked as if he wanted to say more, but Elrohir and their guide were approaching them now. "Please, Erestor. We need to make it to the other side. I need to be out in the light."

Only now did Erestor notice that Glorfindel's glow, usually so warm, was eerie and dimmer. Erestor said no more to Glorfindel, but instead consulted their Dwarven friend. "Is there a faster way to get to Lothlorien? Some sort of shortcut?"

"Ai, there is, but it would take us into the waterworks." Valthor shook his head. "There are some terrible creatures there. Foul frogs and diseased orcs."

Erestor and Elorhir exchanged looks. "Just... roaming around?" asked Elrohir. "I would think you should want to get rid of them."

"Certainly, we do not consider them to be neighborly," scoffed Valthor. "We put up with them because we cannot seem to find where they come from. No matter how many parties go into those depths and hunt them down, still there are more. Mind you, the frogs I can understand. They likely lay their eggs and respawn with great vigor. The orcs are puzzling. There must be some secret way by which they come through. The only luck with have with it all is that the frogs tend to eat most of the orcs, and they are all the more sluggish for it – but that will not stop them from making a meal of a Dwarf!"

"Could you not set fire to it all?" asked Erestor. "Wither the eggs and burn the orcs?"

"Ha! An excellent plan - but it is called the waterworks for a good reason!"

"I think what our fine fellow here is trying to tell us is no, there is no shortcut. There are no quick and easy ways to exit this place,” said Elrohir.

"Precisely," agreed Valthor. "Moria is a maze, and while there are many ways through, none of them are short. Not by any means."

"I see." Erestor looked to his companions and back to the dwarf. "How much longer do you think we need to travel until we do reach the other side?"

Valthor rubbed his beard. “Really depends on whether or not anything waylays us,” he said. “Sometimes, a bridge is out, and then we might need to find another way around.”

“How much longer do you think it will be until we reach the other side?” pressed Erestor once they had gone a little further.

“Hard to say, laddie. Depends on which way we go. Could be days. Could be weeks.”

“Weeks?” Glorfindel shook his head. “Unacceptable. Erestor needs medical attention. We need to get to Lothlorien. There is no way it should take weeks to move from one side of the mountain to the other.”

“Going straight through, no, of course not! But you must remember, our halls are not just side to side, but up and down, and diagonally built.”

Elrohir was busy sorting through things in his satchel, and finally pulled out something that he held out for the dwarf to see. “And if you happened to have this, how quickly would we make it through?” he asked. It shined and sparkled even in the dim light they had to travel by.

Valthor’s eyes widened. “Well, now, if that were mine, I think we might make it through in five days or less.”

Elrohir pocketed the item. “Make it four, and it will be yours.”

Valthor pulled abruptly on his reins. “This way!” he directed as he pulled them off of their current course and down a flight of stairs that had been hereto unseen by the others.

“Dwarves,” muttered Erestor under his breath.


	26. Public Arousal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be two chapters, but then I forgot to post the first one, so when I went to post the second, I realized the window was still open with the chapter up... so... now they are one big happy chapter. With a title that fits the second half better than the first half (because it was still open due to my inability to decide on a chapter title). My indecision is your gain, dear reader! Enjoy!

Three and a half days later they emerged into the dim light and immediately Glorfindel was awed by what he could see in the distance. While they were not yet in Lothlorien, there were enormous trees, the likes of which he had not seen since his time in Valinor. A bright blue cloudless sky greeted them above, and majestic deer crossed the pathway to graze. "I am so glad to be out of that cave," he said, not caring who heard his relief.

"Just wait until we get into the woods," promised Elrohir. "It is breathtakingly beautiful. Everyone lives up in the trees. I hope you can climb a rope."

"Tree houses. I can live with that. Oh, but Erestor," realized Glorfindel just as quickly. "Your leg! How will you get up there?"

"Some of the trees have ramps. There are also some places for those who prefer to stay on the ground. Caras Galadhon has a pavilion, and so do some of the areas near the river where it borders Greenwood." Erestor took a deep breath of fresh air and sighed. "I think I can manage either way. Worst case, I can try camping. Besides, I will take that to staying in Moria another day."

"I hate to break it to you, but what we have been doing is camping," Glorfindel informed him.

"I have been a little out of it," admitted Erestor. "Elrohir, do you think you might do us the honor of setting up camp for us?” Travel through the caves had been near constant, with rest when they needed, and no sense of night or day. Their emergence into the outskirts of the forest was clearly in the evening, and dusk was announcing the onset of night. 

“Is the river here safe?” asked Glorfindel. “I thought I might try fishing, and refilling the water supply.”

“It should be fine to fish in, but I would not drink from it,” advised Elrohir. “I think we should continue on to Mekhem-bizru, and then set up camp for the night.”

“That sounds like another Dwarf cave,” said Glorfindel.

“Dwarves, yes. Caves, no. It should not be too far ahead,” recalled Erestor.

“We can exchange our goats for horses there. There are always travelers going one way or the other, willing to make a trade. We can find provisions there as well, and if we are lucky, there will be a scout or two from Lothlorien who can let Grandmother know we are on our way.” Elrohir motioned down the trail. “We can take this path all the way to Caras Galadhon, too. We are not that far from our destination.”

“What say you, Erestor? Can you travel a little longer?”

Erestor nodded and took hold of the reins. “If we are lucky, there might also be a healer there, and campfires already lit.”

Mekhem-bizru was indeed quite close, and they reached it while there was still some light left in the sky. Despite the encampment being somewhat meager in amenities, the view was spectacular, overlooking a large lake, with a waterfall and mountains in the background. “That is the Mirrormere,” said Elrohir to Glorfindel, who had slowed his pace to look at the sight.

“Elrohir?” 

The sound of his name caused Elrohir to rise up in the saddle to try to determine who had recognized him. “Firitharu!” he called out, and dismounted to greet the elf who was waving an arm at him. “What good fortune! I just said that we were in need of a healer, and here you are!”

“How may I be of service?” he asked.

“Do you remember Master Erestor?” Elrohir led him back to the small party on the road. “He injured his leg. While I have done what I can, it would be much better for someone with more training such as yourself to see to his injury.”

“Was it in Moria? And whatever were the two of you doing in there?” Firitharu waved to Erestor now, and frowned when Elrohir shook his head and averted his gaze. “When was he injured?”

“At home,” mumbled Elrohir. “We actually have a very good explanation. Well, maybe not a very good one, but… there was a lot going on,” he rushed. “Will you please take a look? He is having difficulty standing and walking.”

“Aiya! You should have gone to your father then!” Firitharu helped Elrohir to move Erestor down from the goat. “Wait. Am I aiding in some sort of unsanctioned scheme you and your brother have concocted. Speaking of, where is your brother?” Firitharu narrowed his eyes, but did not appear unwilling to help.

“To be perfectly honest with you, Firitharu, I was imprisoned in Imladris, and the scheme was concocted by Lady Celebrian, and Elladan is still at home. We think,” said Erestor. “We do understand if you wish not to be involved, but if you do aid us, we would be most appreciative, and never utter to anyone that you did so. I would not wish to harm your reputation.”

“I am an Elf who decided to live with Dwarves. It is far too late for my reputation,” said Firitharu. “Come. Let us take him to the fire so that I can see his injuries.”

“Can I help?” asked Glorfindel, who was still on his goat.

“Is he with you?” Firitharu asked as he and Elrohir brought Erestor to the nearest campfire. Another Elf who had heard the discussion had spread a blanket out so that they were able to settle Erestor down on that instead of the hard ground. 

“Firitharu, I would like you to meet Lord Glorfindel,” said Elrohir. When Firitharu stood expressionless, Elrohir added, “Of Gondolin.” 

“Yes, I know who he is,” confirmed Firitharu. “Why is he with you?”

“I live in Rivendell now,” said Glorfindel. 

“Is there a problem?” asked Elrohir.

Firitharu gave Glorfindel a hard stare, and then stooped down to examine Erestor. “Do not block the light, please. I will need a few minutes to try to determine what is wrong.”

Elrohir nodded, and then looked up to Glorfindel. “This is probably a good time to see if we can trade the goats.”

Once they were out of range of Firitharu, Glorfindel dismounted and asked, “Do you know what I said or did to insult him? Clearly, he is not happy with me.”

“He is very set in his ways about things,” offered Elrohir as he led the goats around the encampment.

“Thank you. That was refreshingly vague.”

Elrohir sighed and pulled Glorfindel off to the side, behind a large tree. “He is a Sinda. He came from Doriath. He knew my father’s family there, and he sometimes comes to Imladris to visit and to compare notes with my father.” Elrohir hesitated and added, “Like a lot of Sindarin Elves from the old days, he has a bit of a grudge against other Elves. More than that, he carries a distrust and dislike for the Noldor.”

“I am not a Noldo,” defended Glorfindel.

“Right… well… you see…”

“You mean kinslayers, not Noldor.” Glorfindel nodded, more to himself than to Elrohir. “I will keep out of the way.” He reached out to grasp the reins that Elrohir held onto. “Will you stay with Erestor for me? Come and get me if he needs me, but maybe it is better, for now, if I am not in the way.”

“Glorfindel, most people have forgotten or forgiven,” said Elrohir as he relinquished his hold on the goats. “I think you will find these incidents to be in the minority.”

“Maybe they should not be,” came Glorfindel’s reply as he walked away.

\-----

“How is your leg?”

“Ah, there you are.” Erestor patted a spot on the ground beside him, and Glorfindel joined him by the campfire, which was little more than a circle of embers. “Firitharu had to reset the bone.”

“Did he have to break it again?”

“Maybe?” Erestor flipped the blanket off of his leg so that Glorfindel could see the bandages and splint. “I had an infection in my foot, and he did something that hurt a little, but he gave me something to drink before he did it. In fact, I am a little fuzzy in the head even after that nap.”

Dawn had not yet broken, but the sky was pale with the coming of morning. Elrohir had been able to speak with a patrol unit that stopped by the encampment, and now they waited for the escort to meet them there and take them to Lothlorien. “You needed the sleep.”

“That was probably the first good night of sleep I have had since… since whenever I last slept in my own bed. Although, I quite enjoy sleeping next to you. We should do that more in the future again.” Erestor pointed to a satchel near the fire. “There are some things in there that Firitharu gave me. The red ones are for the pain, and the yellow ones are to help with the infection so that it does not travel into my leg and eventually is healed. I am rather attached to my feet, so I would be dreadfully upset if I were to lose one.” Erestor’s voice sounded a little bored, and a little sleepy, and far calmer than someone with a gangrenous foot should be.

Glorfindel tucked the blanket back around Erestor before he opened the bag and peered inside. “What about these purple-blue ones?” he asked as he lifted up a small bottle with a cork plugging the top. “What are those for?”

“Those are for anxiety,” said Erestor. “That was what he gave me before he worked on my leg. I told him that I did not remember being so relaxed, and he said that I should keep a few on hand in case something like this happens again.” He leaned close so that his voice tickled Glorfindel’s ear. “He gave me several dozen. I would have been a whole lot more fun in the dungeon if I would have had those with me,” he drawled.

“I should thank him. Or do you want to pass along my thanks to him? I do not know if he would listen to me.”

“You will need to wait to speak with him. He was called into Moria. There was a mining accident, and they did not want to move anyone until a healer arrived. He may still be in there when we start out again,” said Erestor. “Hmm. I am surprised I remembered all that.” Erestor had been motioning about with his hands as he spoke, and he suddenly lifted his hand up in front of his face. “Fingers are weird,” he remarked. “Like tentacles with pointy things on the ends.” He wiggled his fingers, and Glorfindel bit his tongue.

“I suppose they are,” he agreed, and he took hold of Erestor’s hand to kiss it after he showed no signs of stopping the movement.

“Oh! He did wish me to give you a message, though,” said Erestor when Glorfindel let go of his hand.

“Oh? What did he say?” 

“He wrote it down and put it into the satchel. There should be a slip of paper in there,” said Erestor. “If you do not mind, I am going to sleep a little longer,” he said as he rested his head down again. “I am still light in the head from his draughts, and I do not want to waste it. Once it wears off, I think I will be well aware of whether or not he broke the bone again to set it.”

Glorfindel took a few moments to snuggle next to Erestor and waited for him to doze off before he searched in the satchel for his message. He found it folded up in the bottom. In the difficult to read, scribbled hand of a healer were the following words:

_We must all work together if we are to survive the dangers of these days._

\------

Glorfindel spent the morning and better part of the afternoon resting against a nearby post. This allowed him to keep watch over Erestor, and at the same time doze lightly between discussions with the residents of the outpost. The moment Erestor stirred, Elrohir roused Glorfindel. After a quick check to make sure Erestor was on the mend, Elrohir left the pair with bread, fruit, and a bowl of warm broth to share. Glorfindel insisted he feed Erestor, and following a dropped spoon and some spilled broth, Erestor surrendered so long as a word of it was never uttered in Rivendell.

Now they were sitting together, just on the outskirts of the outpost. There was a little spot against a hill where they were able to have a little privacy, but were still within sight of the encampment. Glorfindel helped Erestor hobble the distance (he had offered to carry him, but that was flat out met with a snarl). Once settled against the hill, Glorfindel eased Erestor down to sit on his lap. In the short time they had traveled, Glorfindel could tell that Erestor had lost weight, and this coupled with his current state made him seem frail. Glorfindel kept one arm around Erestor protectively, and nuzzled him often as they talked. 

“I forgot how taxing travel is,” said Glorfindel when he heard Erestor yawn and found he, too, was tired. “Rivendell is so much like Gondolin to me, I forget sometimes that adventures can happen.”

Erestor was playing with an errant lock of golden hair that had fallen over his shoulder. “You rarely speak of Gondolin,” he said.

"You have never really asked me to tell you about Gondolin. I suppose you know all about it, though. You have all of your books," said Glorfindel.

Erestor shook his head slowly back and forth. "Not really. There are very few accurate books written about Gondolin. The only reason we know is we have Cirdan, and we can ask him to look them over. I think we really only have two or three that I would consider nonfiction. The others are more like historical fiction. There might be a few things that are factual in them, but those are usually things that are known. Like... the names of the houses or a map of the city or something like that. In fact, one of the things that Elrond and I spoke of is that it would be beneficial to have you write some things down. Or dictate them to me. Neither of us wanted to ask you right away, though. It was only fair to allow you to get your bearings before you rush into things again." Erestor took a breath. "So... I have a lot of questions about Gondolin. I just think it would be rude of me to ask you about them until you are ready."

"Huh." Glorfindel nodded. "You know, I spent many years living in Valinor before I came back here. I was even invited to a few places to give speeches about what happened and historical things and even a few debates on the topic. It is surprising how many people who were in Gondolin decided not to be reborn, so in a way, I was something of a scholar on the topic. So... oddly enough, it would not bother me if you have questions."

"Really?" Erestor nodded. Then he laughed, and turned so that he was on his side and could look at Glorfindel while held by him. "Well, now that I have the opportunity, I hardly know what to ask and where to begin. The easy things I feel I should know, but the hard things seem like too much to ask right away."

"Ask anything," said Glorfindel. "Honestly, I would answer anything you have questions about."

"Alright. This is probably an easy one. Why was Penlod in charge of two different houses?"

"Good question. He was not. That is an inaccuracy I have seen a few times. The trouble is, there were two elves with really similar names. One was Penlod and one was Pengolod. Some people in Gondolin even mixed them up. One of them was in charge of the House of the Tower of Snow, and the other was the House of the Pillar. For the life of me, I cannot even remember right now which one was in charge of which house!”

“I see.” Erestor smiled. “Reminds me of how, when I was first learning history, I kept confusing Fingolfin and Finarfin.”

“Very similar,” agreed Glorfindel. “Penlod was full Noldo, though, and he had far more pull in the court. He was very tall, and he tended to vote with Rog on most things. Pengolod was of mixed origin - his mother was from Nevrast and was Sindarin, and his father was from Valinor, and obviously a Noldo. He was a very interesting fellow. He loved to talk far into the night about just about anything - especially if he had been drinking. Sometimes we would get him into his cups and then we would drop him off on Turgon’s doorstep.”

"And who is we?" asked Erestor, who was smiling, for it was obvious that Glorfindel was finding great pleasure in reliving this part of his past.

"Well, probably Ecthelion and I. Maybe Egalmoth, and occasionally Voronwe. The four of us were kind of rogues. All the knaves in the deck of cards, as Lady Indis would sometimes say."

"Troublemakers?"

Glorfindel smiled. "Possibly."

"Never would have guessed."

"Turgon let us get away with a lot. Then again, he only really worried about not letting anyone in or out of Gondolin. Past that, so long as we were kind to each other - the usual things, no stealing, no lying, no cheating - he was very relaxed, so far as rulers go. No one ever killed anyone there. In fact, we had our own language there, and we never created a word for murder because it just never happened. Until Maeglin arrived, and Aredhel came back, and Eol showed up. That was a dark day. We struggled to explain it to each other because we literally had no words for what happened. Murder, poison, death... and there were a lot of residents who never properly learned to speak Sindarin, so things were lost in translation for a few weeks while the news spread through the city.”

“Glorfindel? Erestor?”

Both of them looked up. Elrohir stood before them with a tall Elf beside him. The elf had a stern look and very pale hair that was braided tightly back, away from his face, yet hung loose at his shoulders. He wore all gray, the very color of some of the trees on the edge of the forest, and had with him a longbow and an impressively long curved sword. “This is Haldir. He has been sent by my Grandmother to guide us to Caras Galadhon.”

Haldir bowed deeply. “It is an honor to meet you, Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin. I am equally pleased to see you once again, Master Erestor of Imladris.”

“Likewise, Captain Haldir.” Erestor struggled to move off of Glorfindel so that he could sit beside him.

Elrohir stooped down to assist Erestor, and joined them on the ground, as did Haldir. “Haldir has procured a wagon that we will be able to use, as Firitharu advised against Erestor riding on his own, be it horse or goat. Speaking of… do we still have the goats, Glorfindel?”

“No. I managed to trade one and sell the other two. I had hoped that we would have more horses comes through so that we could purchase mounts for all of us,” he explained.

“One horse will be fine,” said Haldir. “It will be slow going with the wagon anyhow, so whether the rest of us rode or walked it would take as much time.”

“And since it is Glorfindel’s first time here, he may well prefer to walk so that he does not miss anything,” said Elrohir.

“We will not leave until morning,” said Haldir. “It will be much easier to travel the distance from here to Echad Andestel if you are well-rested. Once there, we shall meet with my brothers and plan the journey for the rest of the distance. Much will depend on your fortitude, Master Erestor.”

“We made it through Moria at a grueling pace. I believe, on easier terrain, it will not be quite so difficult for me.”

Haldir gave a curt bow. “Rest well. Be ready to leave before sunrise.” He rose in one fluid motion, and left without disrupting so much as a pebble.

“We should pack the cart now. If we only have one horse, then Erestor will need to share the space with our saddlebags,” said Elrohir as he stood up. Glorfindel did the same and brushed the dirt off of his clothing.

“What if you see about purchasing a mule or a pony?” suggested Erestor. “It seems harsh to burden one animal with everything plus me.”

“At the very least, we can buy some packs so that we can carry some of it,” said Glorfindel. He crouched back down and kissed Erestor’s forehead. “You should rest. Elrohir and I will figure things out.”

“Make sure you are not up late,” said Erestor. “Haldir will want to leave promptly.”

Glorfindel chuckled softly and kissed Erestor on the lips. “I plan to sleep snuggled with you tonight,” he said. “I doubt it will take long to inquire about a mule, and procure some empty packs. There is not all that much to pack, really. I will return to you within the hour – or do you want to sleep where you did last night?”

Erestor peered back to the outpost. It was not exactly bustling, but it was far from quiet. “Can we build camp here instead?”

“I can see to the purchasing and packing,” piped up Elrohir. He had been watching the exchange, and giving them an approving smile reminiscent of those received from Celebrian when she scrutinized the pair. “Glorfindel, can you move the bedding here and start a fire for the night?”

“Absolutely.” Glorfindel waited until Elrohir strolled off to complete his tasks before he asked Erestor, “Which color draughts do you need?”

“Yellow and red,” answered Erestor immediately.

Glorfindel nodded. “I will retrieve those for you before I do anything else. What about the purple ones?” There was a bit of a sparkle in his eyes.

“I recall almost nothing from the time I took the first one until I woke before we ate,” Erestor admitted. “I do remember how fascinating my hands were.”

“They are fascinating hands,” agreed Glorfindel as he took hold of one and kissed the tips of Erestor’s fingers. 

“Uh-huh.”

“Most fascinating hands I have ever seen,” whispered Glorfindel. “It goes so well with these captivating eyes… and this adorable nose…”

“Oh, please…”

“And these interesting ears…” Glorfindel glanced over his shoulder to check that they were not being watched before he nipped very gently at an ear that flicked not once but twice. He slipped one hand down between Erestor’s legs, and Erestor flinched and hit a fist playfully against Glorfindel’s arm. “And this enormous penis…” 

“You know, if you get the bedding right now and start the fire, we might be able to spend a few minutes together under a blanket before Elrohir returns.”

Glorfindel lifted both hands and placed them on either side of Erestor’s head. “And this big, beautiful brain!” He kissed Erestor’s forehead loudly, and chuckled when Erestor shook his head and shooed him away. “A few minutes together under a blanket, eh? No worries that someone from the camp might notice?” he asked as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. 

Erestor shrugged. “I can always blame the draughts. What is your excuse?”

“My excuse is that you are just too fucking enticing for me to say no.”

“Great news!” Elrohir’s voice caused Glorfindel to stand up suddenly and stumble over his own feet. Erestor drew up his knees to try to hide his erection. “I found horses for us! No one has to walk!” Elrohir had some of the bedding in his arms. “All I had to do was put the saddlebags over the new mounts. All set for—“ He paused and looked between the pair. “Is something wrong?”

“Tell you when you are older,” offered Erestor.

Elrohir frowned. “But I am older than—oh….” He wrinkled his nose. “Do not take this the wrong way,” he said as he shoved the bedding into Glorfindel’s arms, “but I think I would prefer to walk in on my parents versus… what do you need, five minutes? Ten minutes?”

“Five minutes? I will barely have my pants off in—“

“La la la la la!” Elrohir covered his ears. “Fifteen minutes,” he scolded them.

“Thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Elrohir looked down at Erestor incredulously. “What can you possibly need thirty minutes for?”

“Everything.”

"And with people watching? Really?!"

"Makes it more exciting," answered Glorfindel for his lover.

Elrohir squeezed his eyes shut, and now his expression resembled one his father would make. “Twenty,” he grumbled. “And then we are going to bed. Sleeping!” he corrected. “We are going to sleep. Twenty minutes,” he added again as he went back to retrieve whatever else they had left.

Glorfindel found the satchel with the bedding that Elrohir brought. “Twenty minutes for everything,” he said after he gave the satchel to Erestor and spread out the bedding. “That is quite ambitious.”

“I enjoy a challenge.” Erestor downed one each of the red and yellow bottles of liquid before he set the satchel aside. “Actually, I only want one thing tonight.” He still had one bottle in his hand, and this one contained the purple draught.

Glorfindel sat down on the bedding and reached for the bottle, removing it from Erestor’s grasp. “You do not need this to tell me things,” he gently coaxed.

Erestor shrugged. “It seems silly to say it,” he mumbled.

“Try me,” offered Glorfindel.

“I am still a little weak right now, so I do not know how active I can be,” Erestor admitted. “There was something I wanted to ask you… if you would do for me.”

“Anything and everything.”

Erestor reached up to untie a scarf he had been using to cover his head. It was found in one of the saddlebags when they were in Moria, and used only after Elrohir declared that it was clean and free of pests. Erestor rolled it up and set it aside. “I just… I thought it would be nice if you touched my hair.”

Glorfindel helped Erestor move to the bedding so that they were facing one another. The draught was returned to the satchel. “It would be very nice,” agreed Glorfindel. He slowly lifted his hands, fingers splayed as he ran them through the dark tresses. The strands were silky and soft, even after the distance they had traversed and the lack of sleep and inability to frequently bathe. Erestor closed his eyes and sighed as Glorfindel’s hands reached the base of his neck. Glorfindel pressed his fingers closer to Erestor’s scalp and ran them back over the top of Erestor’s head. 

Softly, Erestor made a purring sound. Glorfindel spent the remainder of their time alone playing with Erestor’s hair and massaging his neck and scalp. “I hear Elrohir returning,” he said suddenly, as the sound of whistling was heard by both of them.

Erestor unraveled the scarf and wrapped it over his head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Glorfindel touched Erestor’s cheek and smiled as he shook his head. “No, thank you,” he replied.


	27. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half of this was written in the last four hours. So much for 'just going to edit what I have and go to bed'. NO REGRETS, darlings, NO regrets. (Because, although we now have a detour, there won't be a sudden month jump ahead in the story, which is what was originally planned.)

By the time they arrived in Caras Galadhon, the infection in Erestor’s foot was unable to be detected. Upon the insistence of the healer they met there, he continued to treat it just in case. Haldir made apologies on behalf of the Lord and Lady being unable to greet their unexpected guests, but offered their unconditional hospitality to them, including temporary residency in the pavilion until such time as Erestor was healed and could travel to the flets unaided. 

The pavilion was far more comfortable than Glorfindel expected when it was described to him as an open tent. Open it was, with silvery, billowing fabric, adorned with strings of pearls and sparkling gems. There was a single pole at the center to hold up the fluttering canopy. Within, there were low, wide benches with a multitude of cushions and fox fur throws. Soft deerskins covered the ground to serve as a carpet, and there was ample wine, bowls of fruit, and even a private place within the pavilion for bathing. 

“Does this count as camping?” asked Erestor when Glorfindel returned from the bath chamber. It was only after Glorfindel assisted Erestor in refreshing himself that he took the time to wash his hair and scrub off the dirt from travel. Erestor was lounging on one of the benches, dressed in an olive and gold silk robe and reading an ancient-looking scroll. He had procured a scarf that matched his garment, which he used to cover his head.

“I think it does,” he answered as he sat down on the ground beside the bench to comb his hair. He was wearing a robe similar to the one Erestor had, only it was dark blue, trimmed in silver. “Camping fit for a member of the court.”

Erestor stuck out his tongue and rerolled the scroll. “I am hardly a member of the court.”

“The librarian, as far as I am concerned, is always a member of the court. I have never been in a place – not Gondolin, not Tirion – where the librarian was not a prominent member of the king’s circle, and often at his right hand. You need to stop selling yourself short,” insisted Glorfindel.

“I have my doubts that I am still a librarian,” admitted Erestor. “I cannot fathom under what circumstances Elrond would allow me to retain my position. As it is, I think I lost it the day we were arrested.”

“Hush. He will eventually get over all of this.” Glorfindel rose when one the warden who had met them at the border step through the entryway and bow with his hand over his heart. “Haldir, it is unexpected to see you here.”

“I asked for a reprieve from my duties for the night so that I might speak with Erestor. Of course, I did not wish to interrupt,” said the captain.

Glorfindel shook his head. “No interruption, my friend. Please.” He crossed the pavilion and lifted a chair, which he brought to set near the bench. “Erestor has been doing much better since we arrived.”

“I am typically interested in good conversation,” said Erestor, and he set the scroll aside so that he could be in a somewhat upright position. “It would be a pleasure to speak to you, Haldir,” he said as Glorfindel crossed the pavilion to give them a bit of perceived privacy.

Haldir smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” He sat in the chair and relaxed only a little, his training still quite evident in his mannerisms. “You are healing well?” he asked Erestor.

“I am. Thank you.” Erestor reached for the glass of water he had on the ground. Haldir noticed the movement and immediately came to his aid unasked. “Thank you again.”

Once Erestor finished with the glass, Haldir took it back again and set it exactly where it had been. “I have a personal question for you, if you would permit the intrusion.”

Erestor glanced past Haldir to where Glorfindel was standing. He was going through the supplies that they had brought with them and the items that were brought to them upon their arrival. It was obvious that Glorfindel was listening, as he tilted his head and caught a glimpse of Erestor’s gaze. After the silence seemed too long, Glorfindel looked about to return to answer in Erestor’s stead, so Erestor said cautiously, “I will try to answer if I am able to.”

Again, Haldir smiled. It was a sort of comforting expression, though there was also a firm, stern appearance as well. “My brothers and I wished to inquire as to which tribe you belong to.”

Again, there was a pause. Erestor, once more guarded, replied, “My father was one of the Kinn-lai.”

“Ah! Orophin was right, then!” Haldir’s momentary outburst was replaced with his once again subdued appearance. “Forgive me. It was all we have been able to speak of since your arrival. It was never proper for me to approach you about it in the past, but it has been on our minds since the first time you accompanied Lord Elrond here for a visit. We could tell you were one of us, but none of us really believed that Lord Elrond had an Avari in his court.”

“Ha – see! You are in his court.” Glorfindel took up a scone that was on a tray and bit into it with a smug look. 

Haldir turned his head and waited to see if Glorfindel intended to add anything more before he addressed Erestor once again. “The three of us – my brothers and I - are descended from the Cwendi. I must admit, I am always delighted upon finding others. There are six here in Lothlorien who are Cwendi beside myself, and another eleven who are pure Hwenti, and four of the Windan.”

“Cwendi?” asked Erestor.

“Uh…” Haldir frowned as if someone had asked him for information that was simply common, but immediately recovered and answered the question. “When the Cuind and the Hwenti were driven to a point where they were overlapping each other’s territory, some of them decided that instead of warring against each other they should join together. The Cwendi were the result of that – a tribe of hybrids.”

Erestor sat up straighter. “This is fascinating. Did any of the other tribes do that?”

“Not to my knowledge. The Cuind will not recognize the seventh tribe; the Hwenti think of them as cousins. That is why you do not find any Cuind in Lothlorien.” Haldir chuckled. “We try not to send any Cwendi when we have escorts to Greenwood. There are quite a few Cuind there, and some Penni as well.”

“Do you know where there are any other Kinn-lai?” Glorfindel brought another chair over and set it so that he could look at both of them while he finished his scone.

Haldir shook his head. “The Kinn-lai and the Kindi tend to stay far away from civilizations. The Kindi, in fact, have never been known to encounter anyone because of how far south they live, except perhaps other Avari.”

“And the Kinn-lai? Do you know where we would find them?” continued Glorfindel. 

“Oh.” Haldir frowned again.

“I take it that would be a no,” spoke Erestor.

Haldir nodded. “I was actually hoping that you might know where they are. Members of other tribes have asked about them, but they have not been seen for over a century. They seem to be the smallest tribe, and very nomadic from what little I happen to know about them.”

“I see.” Erestor slumped down again. “Well, thank you anyhow.”

Haldir nodded again. He looked as if he might say something more, but cleared his throat and sat quietly until Glorfindel began the conversation again. “Might it be possible that some of the other Avarin elves who are here know more about the Kinn-lai?”

Slowly, Haldir nodded his head, but the look in his eyes did not seem hopeful. “I can certainly ask them. If you wish to speak to any of them, they would be happy to, Erestor,” he added as he stood up in one fluid motion. “I regret that all of us are children of those who spent time with the tribes, so we may not have many answers for you, but that does not mean that there are none. Many stories are passed down from earlier generations, and Lord Celeborn has some books he may be willing to loan to you.”

“That is more than I have access to in Rivendell,” said Erestor. “Haldir, if you do not mind – I have no need for you to investigate immediately. I am not going anywhere anytime soon.” Haldir nodded once more and sat down again. “I would like to ask you about something, though.”

“Of course. How may I be of service?” 

“I know that you will not necessarily know the specifics for the Kinn-lai, but can you tell me about the coming of age rituals for your tribe? Or for any of the other tribes?”

Haldir looked to the ground, and then up again, perplexed. “When you say that I would not necessarily know specifics for the Kinn-lai… are you also unaware of the specifics for your tribe?”

“Correct. My parents died before I was able to complete them. In fact – and perhaps this is ridiculous to you – one of the things I need to find before too long is something proper to cover my head. I lost it on the journey here and have been using whatever I can find as a replacement, and while I know it does not seem inappropriate to anyone else, I feel too revealed without it,” said Erestor. Self-consciously, he adjusted the scarf to cover more of the top of his head, as it had slipped back a bit.

“What sort of thing do you need?” asked Haldir. “We may not have exactly what you are looking for, but we can certainly do our best to accommodate you.”

“What I wore in Imladris was a little fitted cap that I tied under my chin, but really…” Erestor looked at Glorfindel before he addressed Haldir again. “I really should wear the traditional veil. Especially if there are other Avari here. I just… I feel like that would be the most appropriate.”

Haldir rubbed his chin. “Sometimes we have gatherings on one side of the river or the other so that we can attend rituals with the Penni of Greenwood. I have seen some of their children wear nothing more than a black cloth, but they only do so while they are very young. Of course, rituals change over time – it is possible that they used to wear them into their adulthood, and now they do not.”

“No… what you saw is most likely the accurate version,” said Erestor. “As I said, my parents were not able to hold the ceremony with me.”

“I am sorry to ask this, Master Erestor, but how old are you?” 

Erestor cringed and answered, “Older than I should be while still wearing the veil.”

“Erestor has expressed an interest in completing the ceremony,” explained Glorfindel, “but without any other Kinn-lai around, he does not wish to dishonor his people by casting off the veil just because it is…”

“In the way,” finished Erestor. “I respect my culture, little that I know of it, far too much to simply move on. I feel like this is something I need to do, and need to learn about. It is a part of me that I need to find.”

“You are very brave to admit these things,” said Haldir. “I will send a scout across the river to speak to the Penni. The Penni are said to be the closest to the Kindi, and the Kindi are very close to the Kinn-lai. I think the rituals that we have will be similar, but if we can learn more of your people, and your way, then maybe we can help you. There may be a member of the Penni willing to come here to perform the ritual.”

“From what I have read,” said Erestor, “there are indeed some similarities between the Penni and the Kinn-lai, but there are some… pretty glaringly big differences from what I can recall of things my father told me. The Penni are a little… different. Would it be possible just to ask them about the veil?”

“I admit, I do not know the specifics of their ceremony, but I have always understood them to be… well, the Penni, Kindi, and Kinn-lai tend to be the… less progressive of the six.”

“Well, yes, but the Kinn-lai were… are…” Erestor scratched behind his ear. “My father was covered in tattoos, and it seemed that some were added after I was born and when I was in my youth.”

“Tattooing is common for all of the tribes,” Haldir informed him. He drew back his sleeve to display markings on his own skin, in varying shades of grey. “Sometimes, they are changed. Sometimes, for great deeds, some are added.”

“The ones my father had were different.” Erestor glanced at Glorfindel briefly before he continued to speak to Haldir. “They were more colorful, and more visible. He had them on his hands, and over his chest and back.” He glanced warily at Glorfindel again, then back to Haldir. “Some were even on his neck and face. He had marks, too – not from ink. More like scars, but not from being cut. At least, I do not think so.”

“When the Penni have their ceremonies, I have seen them use fire and very fine metal tools to burn patterns on their skin. It takes time, for only once, and you know it would just heal – they repeat it over and over, until the skin is permanently branded.” Haldir relaxed his shoulders a little. “What else do you remember about your father?”

“I remember all of the adornments he had. There were beads and feathers in his hair, and leather wrapped around braids that I never recall him unraveling. He had jewelry made of metal and bones and maybe rock or something that was pierced through his skin, and sometimes he had different colors of paint on his arms and face.” Erestor smirked at a sudden memory, and explained to Haldir: “When I was very young, I remember telling him he had something stuck in his eye. It was not really in his eye – it was a thin piece of carved bone that was pierced through his skin both above and below his eyebrow on the left side. He told me he knew it was there, and I remember pestering him to tell me why and where it came from and whether he was going to shoot an arrow into the person who did it, until he finally became impatient with all of my questioning and told me he did it himself and if I did not stop asking he was going to shove it in my eye sooner than I deserved it. He was just frustrated and never would do that, of course,” Erestor said hastily. “I sometimes think about that, though – how, if he had lived long enough for me to come of age, would he have started with something like that, and would I have that fish bone thing or something like it sticking out of my eyebrow right now. Weird thought. Sorry. These draughts have loosened my tongue,” admitted Erestor.

Only now did Glorfindel notice that there were three empty little bottles, one of each color, on the ground near Erestor’s glass of water. Glorfindel found he had gripped the arms of his chair during the telling of the tale, and he turned his head to the side to collect his thoughts. Haldir continued to listen intently, and nodded when he perceived Erestor was finished. “I will only ask about the veil. In the meantime, I will also inquire with Lord Celeborn about the books he has. They may have more answers for you.” Haldir stood up again, and this time, he left after he bowed to them and wished them a good evening.

Erestor slid back down to rest before he spoke to Glorfindel. “Say the word and I will not pursue it.”

Glorfindel let out a long-held breath. “This is… your life. I will be supportive of whatever you decide,” said Glorfindel.

“I can tell you do not mean that,” scolded Erestor in a sleepy voice. “As soon as I mentioned facial tattoos, you looked like you were going to vomit.”

“I just... you are just so beautiful as you are.” Glorfindel’s words were far whinier than he had planned. He bowed his head and swallowed before he continued. “I keep picturing in my mind how you are going to cover your gorgeous skin with pictures and poke holes in your body that you do not need and ruin your magnificent hair… sweet Eru, Erestor, *I* want hair like yours, touching it the way you let me the other—oh, shit. That was why you let me do that!” he realized, and he covered his face with his hands. “You might not have known they were here, but you probably knew that the further we get from Rivendell, the more likely you are to find other Avari.”

“I knew they were in Greenwood,” confessed Erestor. “I had my suspicions regarding Lothlorien, but… as Haldir alluded to, there is a certain hierarchy. I am just accidentally higher than I should be. Now, though, I think I can speak to whomever I want.”

Glorfindel tilted his head back and ran his hands through his own hair. “Yes, you can. Just like you can do whatever you want to your body. This is your decision. I can be supportive without being in agreement. I love you and I want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too,” countered Erestor. “My skin is so dark, you are hardly going to see most of the tattoos. I am not a warrior, so I will not have nearly as many as my father did. If putting things in my hair bothers you so much, I promise I will not sleep like that or let it get as matted as his did. I doubt I would enjoy that, to be honest, but if the feathers and things have meaning, I think I at least want to try.”

Glorfindel sighed and nodded. “I can respect that,” he said. “And if you do decide to keep trinkets braided in your hair all of the time, I will still love you as much as I love you now. The same goes for fish bones stuck in your eyelid,” he added, though this was said in a gruff mumble.

Erestor stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. “I find it highly amusing that someone who clearly has piercings for purely decorative purposes is trying to convince someone who plans to do it for cultural reasons not to do so.”

“I did not say I was trying to convince you of anything. I am simply giving my opinion, and you are free to do as you like. However, your skin is smooth and flawless and I am going to admit something right now that is going to make you laugh.”

Erestor quirked a brow. “And that is?”

“I thought you spent a lot of time in the sun, except I see you inside so much, so I was really confused—“

“Oh!” Erestor laughed for a moment, then pressed his lips together. “Nope. No sun required.”

“So now, I feel a little bit foolish.” Glorfindel rubbed at the corners of his eyes. “So with your father… rocks and bones and things… these sound like crudely made objects that made sort of larger holes than normal in things.”

“Mmmhmm… where do you think I got the idea while we were playing in the dungeon?”

“Oh, so you were testing on me first?” Glorfindel’s voice was somewhat playful, but also filled with worry.

“Glorfindel, just as this is a lot for you to process, it is a lot for me, too,” said Erestor. “I have no idea if Haldir will even find someone who knows enough about the Kinn-lai for this to really work, let alone someone willing to perform the ritual. On top of that, I may decide, after hearing what they have to say, that I do not want to. I may reject it all completely. I have no idea what my reaction will be. I am excited, but also apprehensive, and… scared.”

Glorfindel moved from the chair to the bench as Erestor sat up and sniffled and wiped under his nose. He rubbed Erestor’s back while holding one of his hands. “I have to stop making this about me,” apologized Glorfindel. “I forget sometimes that I am the one who has had thousands of years of experiences and a large family, and, while I did have two massively devastating events in my life, for the most part, I have done as I wished and enjoyed so many things that others never dream to do. I have been extremely blessed, especially in finding you, and there is nothing that will change that. Whatever you decide, I will be right here, right beside you, supporting your decisions, and if needed, punching naysayers for you.”

Erestor shook his head and chuckled at Glorfindel’s final declaration. “I do hope that the naysayers are few to none. I think we have both spent enough time in dungeons.”

“Indeed.” Glorfindel kissed Erestor’s forehead. 

“But, if something really bothers you—“

Glorfindel moved to kiss Erestor’s lips and shush him. “You are beautiful to me now, and you always will be. I was very wrong to say what I did earlier. And, as you pointed out, a little hypocritical.”

They were silent for a little while. As the lights along the pathways were lit by caretakers and the twilight dimmed the sky, Erestor whispered to Glorfindel, “I have no fear of the tattoos. The piercings really bother me. Strange, right? I mean, sharp pokey things either way.”

“What part worries you?” asked Glorfindel.

“I have no fucking idea. The whole thing, I guess,” admitted Erestor. “I mean… I suppose, tattoos can mostly be covered. Unless there is some really, really important reason for it, I do not want them on my face. Even then, there were a few times that my mother mixed some things together and painted over my father’s tattoos, and they were barely noticeable. Tattoos can be concealed. Piercings, on the other hand, cannot be.”

“So… if you go through the ritual, you can to be able to cover up everything so that no one knows about your heritage?” Glorfindel frowned.

“No, not really.” Erestor frowned in return. “I just think Elrond is going to make me do it.”

“Oh, fuuuuuck Elrond.” Glorfindel lowered his voice when he remembered where they were. “I mean, not literally – though maybe someone should. Loosen him up a bit,” he muttered, and Erestor snorted. “Is it just Elrond seeing them that you worry about?”

“Maybe?” Erestor shrugged. “I worry that it will hurt, and that they will annoy me, and get in the way, and be uneven, and…” He shrugged again. “It does seem to be… a thing with all of the Avari, though – the tattoos, the piercings, to some extent. Even Haldir and his brothers have them.”

“Honestly, Erestor, look around. Elves are like cats. We like shiny things. Better than half of the population I have seen, rank and caste aside, wear earrings or studs in their noses or a combination thereof. Some of them undoubtedly keep their jewels concealed as well. So, consider this,” offered Glorfindel. “It is going to take Haldir at least a week or two to contact someone in Greenwood – at least. More than likely, several weeks to a month. If you look at my ears, you can see that they already healed in the time we have been away from Imladris.”

Erestor tilted his head and touched Glorfindel’s lobe. “Mmhmm.”

“Well, that gives us time to practice.”

Erestor tilted his head the other way. “Practice?”

“Unless you think it would not be allowed, I am sure we can find what we need – sharp needle, disinfectant, simple jewelry—“

“OH!” Erestor suddenly caught on, eyes wide. “Um…”

“It could heal again before the ritual, but then you would at least know what to expect. Anyhow, I am pretty vain, so I want to redo mine,” admitted Glorfindel. 

“And you have done this before?” asked Erestor cautiously.

“Sure, lots of times. I usually pierce my own ears whenever I feel like it,” said Glorfindel. “Just need all of the above plus a mirror.” 

Erestor did not look quite convinced, but he had imbibed the purple draught earlier, so he eventually agreed to Glorfindel’s plan. “Not here, though. I do not want to be the center of attention. There are some nice, secluded places nearby. I do not want to risk irritating my foot, though, so perhaps if you can help me get onto the horse tomorrow, we could ride to one of those spots.”

“I think that could be arranged,” said Glorfindel.

Erestor yawned. “I may or may not have second thoughts in the morning,” said Erestor after Glorfindel moved another bench beside the one Erestor was using so that they could sleep side by side.

“Knowing you as well as I do now, I would actually be worried if you were not having fifth thoughts by then,” said Glorfindel. He fluffed up some of the cushions and settled in on his bench. “For now, though, I think it is time to sleep.” He waited a moment, and then looked to his companion, and smiled to see that Erestor had fallen asleep, victim of exhaustion and the rainbow variety of elixirs he had been given. “Until tomorrow,” Glorfindel whispered, and kissed him on the cheek before he also fell asleep.


End file.
